


Sentiment and Espionage, and All That Lies Between

by deliriumbubbles



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Baby Harry, Depression, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, snupin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-18 14:06:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 76,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8164562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deliriumbubbles/pseuds/deliriumbubbles
Summary: In the aftermath of the Wizarding War, life is bleak for the survivors. With so many of their own gone, there is little left to do but rebuild and grieve. But when Severus Snape learns that Lily’s son has been placed into the neglectful hands of the Dursleys, he makes the decision to take Harry away from them. His plan goes perfectly, until Remus Lupin, who barely survived the war or the death of his friends himself, confronts him. Neither willing to return Harry to Petunia, together the former Death Eater and the werewolf with PTSD decide to try to raise Harry. With Death Eaters, The Ministry, the Order of the Phoenix, and Dumbledore himself hot on their heels.
Warning: possible triggers for suicide, depression, and PTSD





	1. The Ones Left Behind

_We know little, but that we must trust in what is difficult is a certainty that will never abandon us; it is good to be solitary, for solitude is difficult; that something is difficult must be one more reason for us to do it._

_It is also good to love: because love is difficult. For one human being to love another human being: that is perhaps the most difficult task that has been entrusted to us, the ultimate task, the final test and proof, the work for which all other work is merely preparation._

_Rainer Maria Rilke_

**Chapter One**

 

Empathy was not among the traits with which Severus Snape would have ever described himself.

 

Severus Snape would have always said that his strengths were potions and curses. In a pinch, he would’ve considered Care of Magical Creatures among his skills. Anything regarding interpersonal ability, however, was strictly out. He’d come to accept _that_ reality quite early in his magical career, and for the most part, he didn’t spend much time being even slightly concerned about this lack.

 

Regardless, that night he stood, quite unseen, on the edge of the cemetery where James Potter and Lily Evans had just been put to rest, and he _watched_.

              

He had watched the ceremony earlier that day as well. There had been quite a few mourners. Not as many as one would have expected, but given the times, there was a respectable number. Those who had loved them. Those who were _left_. Members of the Order. Friends who had been lucky enough to remain out of the line of fire. A few that Severus did not recognize. Both husband and wife, in life, had been the kind to collect devoted friends.

 

Severus understood why all too well. At least on Lily’s part.

 

As he observed, he wondered about those who were absent. Frank and Alice ought to have come. Perhaps they were dead. Not being an official member of the Order, Severus tended to be left out of informative meetings, and this included for the most part when and how those of their number had died.

 

When the ceremony started, and Remus Lupin wasn’t in attendance, Severus had simply assumed that likewise, he had perished that fateful night. It was right, in a way. Potter and Lily had died. Pettigrew had died. And Sirius Black the one to put them in the ground. For that little family to all be extinguished in one night seemed appropriate.

 

He was thinking logically. Almost coldly. But, in truth, Severus had found it difficult to think of Lily Evans’ death at all, other than to rage that Dumbledore had failed them all so spectacularly.

 

When Lupin had appeared then, it was a cold splash of water on his musings. Lupin looked as though he hadn’t shaved or washed in several days. He moved stiffly, as though injured. There were even fresh gashes over his face, and one eye was swelled closed. He looked like he could use some proper healing or tincture. Lupin had always been particularly rubbish at potions, but he could’ve at least attempted a simple mending charm.

 

Watching him shuffle over to the small crowd, Severus thought again: _Potter and Lily had died. Pettigrew had died. And Sirius Black the one to put them in the ground._

Severus had left after the funeral, knowing he couldn’t be seen here. Now that he’d returned, he wasn’t quite sure whether he was surprised or not that Lupin was still here, sitting in the dirt of the cemetery, unmoving. Severus could hardly go to pay his respects with Lupin crumpled up by their graves.

 

He watched Lupin for some time and then left, planning to return the next day.

 

Unfortunately, matters with the other former Death Eaters stole his time. He was in no mood for such meetings, for pretending he agreed with their every inane sentiment, but there was little choice. He could reveal himself, and likely die, or he could remain undercover, and perhaps keep his position as spy for when Voldemort returned. Strategically one of these moves made much more sense, even as Severus loathed it. It wasn’t as if the other Death Eaters weren’t doing their own dances of manipulation to move into advantageous positions for battles to come.

 

So when he finally managed to return to the graveyard, a few days later, Severus was surprised. Lupin was _still there_. Now _lying_ by their graves, unmoving.

 

With a furrowed brow, Severus tried to gain a clearer view without coming much closer. On the day of the ceremony, he’d used a potion that caused one to blend into one’s surroundings to avoid being seen (his own creation), a bit of liquid glamour. He hadn’t the time to brew another. Not that Lupin seemed to be in much position to notice him. Between his wounds and exposure, he was unlikely to notice much of anything. In fact, it seemed that Lupin had simply come to the same conclusion that Severus had before: It would’ve been better if he’d died along with the rest of friends.

 

The realization startled Severus. It had never occurred to him that Lupin would consider suicide, even so passively. As Severus mulled it over, he decided that it would have been less disturbing if the werewolf had simply decided to cut his own throat. None of this pathetic lie down and die nonsense.

 

Following surprise was anger, although Severus wasn’t entirely sure why he would even care what Lupin did these days. Maybe once, he would have felt something for Lupin’s wellbeing, but that had all changed the night Black had revealed his first homicidal tendencies and attempted to use Lupin as a murder weapon. But anger was there, nonetheless. Who was Lupin to opt out of this mess before it was truly over? Whatever pain he was enduring, they would still need soldiers when Voldemort returned, perhaps even sooner, if the other Death Eaters got a bit more ambitious.

 

Though, perhaps Lupin had no idea that Voldemort would be returning. Perhaps he thought that it was over, and with it should be his suffering. A stab of panic arose in Severus’s chest suddenly. Perhaps all this wondering was for naught. Perhaps the werewolf had simply passed during the days that Severus, negligent of the man’s condition, had left him there alone.

 

It was likely that many things were slipping through the cracks at the moment. Dumbledore had much to take care of just now. As much as Severus had lost faith in his omniscience, he had to admit that the mental state of one survivor was justifiably beyond the scope of Dumbledore’s priorities at the moment.

 

He lifted his hood over his head, though it was incredibly unlikely that anyone cared to watch the werewolf kill himself, and swooped down to Lupin’s side. Quickly, he checked Lupin’s pulse. It took him a moment to find, but there it was, thready but persistent. Luckily, despite their tendency toward moon sickness, werewolves could be quite hard to kill otherwise. Or perhaps from Lupin’s perspective, unluckily.

 

There were a few moments of hesitation. If Lupin wanted to off himself, who was Severus to get in his way? His entire family had died around him. As far as Severus knew, there was no woman waiting for him to come home, or man, for that matter now that Black was in Azkaban. Werewolves didn’t even have a good shot at producing children if they were trying very hard, so there would be none to miss him.

 

Except, perhaps, Lily’s child.

 

That was a sticky one. Now that Severus was thinking about it, what _had_ Dumbledore done with the child? Severus hadn’t been able to think about it directly after the murders. He ought to have, but his mind had been consumed lately. His feelings for Lily had been complicated, but his attachment to her had never wavered.

 

Severus looked at Lily’s gravestone. Now that he was thinking of her, there was no longer any question about leaving her friend here to die in the dirt. As much as Lupin had been a part of Potter’s gang in school, he had been friends with Lily first, and they had always been quite close. She would never forgive Severus for letting her friend die.

 

 _She **would have never forgiven** ,_ Severus reminded himself, correcting the tense in his mind. _She can’t forgive or judge anyone anymore. Or be sorry for Lupin’s passing._

Gathering Lupin in his arms was like scooping up a scarecrow. What the hell had Lupin been up to for the last few months? His condition was far worse than a few days of melodramatics might produce. Severus shook his head and disparated them both from the graveyard.

 

***

 

Remus woke to a jolt of freezing water.

 

“-not going to bloody well kill yourself on my watch,” snapped a velvety, and quite peevish, voice.

 

Remus jerked about in the water, his mind having not fully woken up yet. It wasn’t entirely convinced that he wasn’t drowning.

 

A firm hand pushed him back into the cold water and held him down.

 

“You need to get cleaned up. Get those wounds cleaned _out_. That one on your nose is _already_ infected, I can _tell_ ,” the voice lectured.

 

Remus shook his head and with an effort, took in his surroundings with bleary eyes. He was in a small washroom, in a tub, with a tall, dark figure hovering over him. And he was beginning to shake from the cold of the water.

 

The hand released him, and the figure stepped back. Remus narrowed his eyes and then blinked a few times. His vision wasn’t clearing much.

 

“Snape? What am I… doing…?”

 

“You are impinging on my hospitality and my better nature, Lupin.” Snape crossed his arms and glared down at him. “You will wash. You will allow me to tend your wounds, and if you are in well enough condition, you will take food. After that, you are on your own.”

 

Remus hugged his arms and curled up in the tub. He realized then that he was still fully clothed and was sitting there in the freezing water with his robes practically hanging off of him. And in the home of a man who truly hated him, no less.

 

“I appreciate your allowing me the dignity of undressing myself,” Remus managed, though his teeth chattered and his voice was thick and hoarse. “I would have appreciated it more, however, if you’d allowed me to do it before being tossed in the bath.”

 

“You wouldn’t wake,” Snape said shortly.

 

Remus sat back in the tub. His skin was beginning to smart from the cold. It wasn’t a good sign, if he couldn’t wake up. He knew well enough that his constitution for the rest of the month depended largely on how well he recovered directly after the full moon… and this month, after he’d gotten back from a battle in the north, but right before the moon, he’d found out…

 

“Good God.” Snape’s lip curled up in disgust, and he turned away as though he’d caught sight of something truly obscene.

 

Remus realized that his cheeks were growing warmer and wetter. He covered his eyes and clenched his jaw.

 

“If you’ll allow me my wand, I’ll clean up and trouble you no longer,” Remus managed.

 

“So you can slash your throat? I don’t think so.” Snape tossed him a cloth and a bar of rough-looking soap (it smelled quite nice, however). “There is a towel here and a fresh set of clothing after you wash. I’ll be in my study.”

 

And with that, he left, and Remus was alone.

 

He only sat there for another moment in his sopping wet clothes. Quickly, he started to unfasten the buttons on his robe and made an effort to pull them off. It was harder than he’d expected. He could barely push himself up in the tub. By all rights, perhaps Snape ought to have dumped him at St. Mungo and saved himself the trouble of caring for an invalid.

 

Remus would’ve preferred his wand, but it was no undue hardship to heat the water on his own. He suspected Snape had no inkling of what Remus was truly capable of outside of the wolf. He held his hand out, focused for a moment, and brought the flames gently to his bath until the water had warned. He had to be careful on that account. Cooking himself alive wouldn’t do. Though he still wasn’t quite certain he ought to try to keep himself breathing.

 

His mind remained foggy in spite of the rude awakening. His body felt heavy and ached all the way down to his toes. It was almost as though his bones had turned to glass and his muscles had decided to give up and dissolve. He knew he could only blame a part of this on post-transformation pains. Part of it had to do with what his mind couldn’t begin to fathom.

 

Everyone was _gone_. Completely _gone_. Forever _gone_.

 

It was utterly ludicrous that _he’d_ been the one to survive. The one with the least to live for on his own. Any other member of the Order would have been both more likely to live and more worthwhile to the post-war Wizarding World. Well, perhaps not Sirius.

 

That thought in itself had Remus covering his mouth in horror and disbelief, and he struggled to breathe.

 

Remus found that it was impossible to will his limbs to move now. He just stayed there in the warm water, feeling his aches throb and puzzling over and over again how he could possibly still be alive. How he could have been so wrong about a person as to trust the man who would betray Lily and James.

 

He couldn’t remember, at first, what had made him decide to head to the cemetery and stay there. Had it just been his incapacity to handle the massacre of that night which had taken so many from them? Had it been Sirius’ betrayal? He felt almost nauseated, not unlike the hollow, dead feeling in his belly after he’d come to understand the events that had transpired at The Shrieking Shack.

 

But no, that wasn’t it. Something else had brought him to James and Lily’s resting place and rendered him motionless.

 

Oh.

 

 _Harry_.

 

Remus curled over on himself and shuddered. His breaths were coming more quickly. But now he shook not from cold, not from grief, but from _anger_. A boiling rage he’d never felt before, followed by a sense of defeat and utter loss.

 

The door cracked open suddenly, and Snape appeared.

 

“You had better not be drowning yourself in here!” he snapped. He seemed a bit out of sorts. Like he’d run down the hallway to get here.

 

Remus looked up at Snape and gave him a vague smile. “It hadn’t occurred to me.”

 

Snape lifted his chin and then turned his head. “Must I watch you? Can you not do this on your own?”

 

Remus wondered then why on Earth Snape would extend _any_ effort to keep Remus alive. As far as Remus had understood, Snape was probably on the other side in the war.

 

“What do you want from me?” Remus asked.

 

“I want you to _bathe_.” Snape rolled his eyes. “I’d thought that wasn’t too complex a request, even for you.”

 

He left then and returned a moment later with a book and a stool. “Let’s get on with this, shall we?”

 

Remus looked about himself. He’d lost the soap somehow, but it was only sitting on the bottom of the tub. Snape hovered on his perch, looking up every so often while Remus made perfunctory motions swiping soap over skin.

 

He flinched as he brushed against a wound. Looking down, the flesh surrounding it had grown a mottled gray, no doubt due to the curse flung at him at the last battle he’d fought. He’d cleaned it out, yes, but the curse was probably of the type that negated the victim’s natural healing abilities.

 

“Do you happen know the counter to Frigus Separa?” Remus trailed his fingers along the edge of the wound.

 

“I know the counter to a number of severing curses,” Snape said flatly.

 

“A credit to your name,” Remus muttered.

 

“Says the man whose last name quite _literally_ means wolf.”

 

Remus looked up at Snape in surprise. Had that been an insult or a joke?

 

“Don’t blame me if your family had poor luck in naming,” Snape said after a moment.

 

“I’m just not accustomed to hearing that kind of joke from anyone besides…”

 

Remus didn’t finish the thought. He didn’t have to. From Snape’s expression, it was clear he knew who had used to joke with Remus like that.

 

“Are you done?” he asked. Remus might have imagined it, but Snape’s voice seemed a bit gentler.

 

“Very nearly. Give us a moment.” Remus took the washcloth and got to scrubbing. “Sleeping in a cemetery makes a man a bit stiff.”

 

Once Remus had finished, he moved to push himself out of the tub. His legs refused to hold, and he slid back down, letting out a shuddering laugh at his failure.

 

Snape moved from his stool and grabbed Remus’ other hand while averting his eyes. Again, the question came to Remus: Why would Severus Snape do this for _him_? Remus could imagine a number of people Snape might put himself out for. Remus would have to perhaps be the _last_ name on the list… possibly right before Sirius’.

 

Snape practically dragged Remus over to the stool where he’d been sitting and allowed Remus to drape the towel about his waist. His voice, low and sing-song, recited the Vulnera Sanentur chant as he traced the point of his wand over Remus’ chest. Remus swallowed and closed his eyes.

 

“We’ll need to apply some dittany afterward,” Snape said sternly.

 

“I’m not terribly concerned about scarring. What are a few more, at this point?”

 

“That’s good. Owing to the fact that I have enough for this chest wound that direly needs it, and maybe the ones on your arms, back, and thighs, but likely not your face as well.” Snape put his hand on Remus’ shoulder.

 

Remus realized he’d been slumping. He opened his eyes and touched over his face. Snape was right. There were several fairly deep gashes across his forehead, nose, cheeks, and chin.

 

“Oh.” Remus didn’t know what to say. He must look like a roughly cut side of beef just now.

 

“I do have several healing potions on hand that have a bit in them,” Snape offered. “It’ll have to do.”

 

Remus nodded absently.

 

It took him a while, but somehow he managed to end up in a pair of trousers and in a small kitchen where Snape applied a layer of dittany over the wound on his chest. He spared one precious leaf for a deep cut under Remus’ eye. His vision began to improve almost immediately.

 

“Thank you, Severus.”

 

Snape’s deft hands stilled for half a second, then continued their work. He looked down on Remus with a severe expression, and then handed him a large gray jumper.

 

“I suppose I’ll be on my way, then.” Remus lifted his arms gingerly to pull the jumper over his head.

 

“No, you won’t. You haven’t eaten yet.”

 

Remus ducked his head through the jumper and watched Snape looking about his kitchen with a bit of consternation. The idea that food should be in the kitchen seemed to have not occurred to him before this moment.

 

With a sigh, Snape opened up a drawer and shuffled through a handful of takeaway menus. The sight was surreal. Remus’ lips started to twitch with a smile.

 

“You don’t have to ring some Muggle restaurant for me.”

 

“I haven’t been back to this flat in ages. There’s nothing _edible_ here.” Snape reached for a telephone mounted on the wall.

 

“Given the circumstances, I can hardly blame you for not having the time to shop,” Remus said lightly, as he dug his bare toes into the cold linoleum.

 

Snape shrugged and sucked in his cheeks before putting in his order.

 

***

 

Once he’d been cleaned up, Lupin’s hair seemed to be a completely different color from the dusty, blood-caked mop on his head before. It was even lighter than the sunny chestnut Severus remembered from school when it had finally dried. He didn’t put too much thought into it until Lupin was asleep once again, this time on the sofa, but looking quite as dead as he had when Severus had dragged him into this house. Had Lupin always been this deep a sleeper? Useful trait in the middle of a war.

 

Severus stood over him, scowling deeply, and realized that Lupin’s hair was lighter now because streaks of silver were cutting through the natural light brown.

 

“How are you _ever_ going to keep yourself alive?” Severus muttered to himself. He returned to the kitchen to clean up the takeaway and put a chilling charm on the refrigerator. There was no point in arranging for electricity in the short time they’d be here.

 

Severus took a moment then to line up a few more healing potions. He’d pressed a few on Lupin after he’d gotten some food into him, and he planned to do so again in the morning. Soon, he would be able to say he’d done his due diligence regarding Lily’s friend.

 

It was eeking into the wee hours of the morning when Severus awoke. At first he wasn’t entirely certain what had woken him, but then he heard another floorboard squeak, and so he rose swiftly, took his wand and descended into the den.

 

Lupin was awake and hovering by the window. Did he plan to leave? It would be the end to Severus’ responsibility if he left of his own accord now. Still, Severus would prefer to see a job finished and that would mean a few more days of treatment and rest, at the very least.

 

His patient didn’t move to open the door, however. He lifted the dark, heavy drape covering the window and peered out, breathing shakily.

 

Not _this_ again. The last thing Severus needed was to watch Lupin weeping and collapsing under the weight of his grief. Lupin had always been the most stable and taciturn of his flighty, dramatic band of Gryffindors.

 

Truthfully, though, the most disturbing thing about it all was that Lupin _looked_ how Severus _felt_.

 

Severus was considering going back to bed and leaving Lupin to drown in his tears, when Lupin’s hoarse voice broke the silence.

 

“Why did you take me in? You have my gratitude, of course, but why? Did Dumbledore ask you to?” Lupin wiped his cheeks, careful of the healing cuts there, and turned to level his gaze directly at Severus.

 

“No. It may shock you to find that Albus Dumbledore has been a spot busy in the wake of the Dark Lord’s defeat,” Severus said dryly.

 

“Am I meant to be given to the Death Eaters once I’m whole?”

 

Severus crossed his arms and tossed his hair back indignantly. He supposed he ought to be impressed that Lupin had come to the conclusion that Dumbledore was in charge of his rescue before assuming Severus was about to sell him to Death Eaters.

 

“Wrong again, Lupin.”

 

“So… Have you forgiven me?”

 

Severus’ brows drew together. What an oddly introspective mood Lupin was in tonight. Severus considered his answer for a moment, since it really ought to be properly scathing, but who knew how much this one could survive at the moment?

 

“Forget it.” Lupin turned back to looking out the window.

 

“I cannot imagine there is that much to capture your interest in Spinner’s End.”  


“Spinner’s…. what?”

 

“It’s the name of the street,” Severus explained.

 

“I see. I’m trying to get a look at the sky.”

 

“Oh. Well.” Severus frowned. “I’m not as intimately familiar with the phases of the moon as you must be.”

 

“Do you know the date?” Lupin let the curtain fall and looked to him again.

 

“It’s the fifteenth of November,” Severus answered.

 

Lupin lifted his head slightly. “It’s only been a few days since the last. I lost track of the time.”

 

He shook his head. He was _concerned_ about turning while in Severus’ house.

 

“Is that why you’re in such bloody poor shape?” Severus said bluntly.

 

“That’s a bit of it, yes.” Lupin smiled a little. “If I don’t get the proper treatment directly after, I can’t regain the stamina I lost for quite some time. The other bit was the… _tangle_ I’d gotten into with the Death Eaters before the full moon happened. There were quite a few of us. Wolves, I mean. And members of the Order. Though… not anymore.”

 

Lupin ran his hand down his chest slowly and stared at the floor as though he saw someone important lying there. He probably was haunted by quite vivid the images of the fallen, even though he was only looking at wooden planks.

 

“Which of those scrapes of yours came from the fight, and which came from the moon?” Severus asked.

 

“The hex was obvious.” Lupin shrugged. “The rest, I don’t rightly know. Pomfrey had her work cut out for her, keeping me in once piece. Lily helped, after we’d graduated.”

 

Slowly, Lupin moved back to lean against the sofa with a sigh.

 

“You should sleep,” Severus instructed. He didn’t want to encourage any more reflection about Lily.

 

“Why not leave me where you found me?” Lupin pressed. “If no one has bidden you to do it, and you haven’t forgiven me, and truly it is putting you out to bother… Why help me?”

 

“There’s a stark difference between striking a man down with a well-placed curse in the heat of battle, and walking away to allow him to die,” Severus snapped.

 

“Yes. And one of those things, most people would forgive. Particularly in the case that the man was very ill and wanted to die.”

 

Severus felt a chill crawling up his spine. He strode up to Lupin angrily. “Your life isn’t over, Lupin. This _war_ isn’t even over.”

 

“It isn’t?”” Lupin’s brows rose curiously.

 

Severus pointed at him in a severe, chastising gesture. “And you know very well that some would consider the latter as unforgivable as the former, no matter the circumstance of his health, _mental_ or otherwise!”

 

Lupin rubbed his temple. He put his hands against the back of the sofa for a moment, then pushed himself up and, holding onto the sofa as he went, walked back around to lie down.

 

Severus remained there for a long time. He wanted to shout at Lupin. He wanted to argue so loudly that the Muggle neighbors called the police. He wanted to pull up the sleeve of his left arm to show Lupin exactly why people still needed him alive. It was a powerful and painful feeling, and the longer he stood there, the more he realized that while he’d decided to take Remus in mostly for Lily’s sake, he didn’t want to see the man die by any means.

 

He still had some care for Remus Lupin’s well-being, no matter what he and his friends had put Severus through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dittany: a plant with tremendously effective healing abilities


	2. Bargaining, Very Loudly

There was nothing particularly pleasant about spending several days on the couch of one Severus Snape, but if there was someone who could manage a smile in the midst of post-war wreckage, it would be Remus.

 

And so, after that first night, Remus chose not to press Snape’s patience on the issue of _why_ he had brought him home and patched him up. For now, it was done, and he was here. He did his best to keep his area tidy, and himself clean, even if he was devoutly avoiding the mirror and whatever the remains of his face looked like now.

 

In the meantime, on the second day, Remus felt a bit more energetic, and so when Snape had shut himself up in his study (which from the pop of disparition suggested meant he was going out), Remus had forced himself up and to life and sought out some cleaning supplies (which only amounted to a broom and a couple of rags). It would’ve been faster with his wand, but Snape had still not released it.

 

He’d tackled the kitchen first. He swept the floors as vigorously as he could manage, and wiped down the counters and the front of the refrigerator, and the table, of course, and the windows. He had to wash the rags in between, but he thought that once he was done, the difference was glaring, even if the place didn’t exactly shine.

 

Remus moved into the den and tried to relieve the old books of as much dust as possible. It was hard work, and his body was already aching, but it helped him not to think, and _that_ was for the best.

 

When he picked up the rug, Remus realized that the front door had never opened in his presence before. Snape had probably apparated here that first night as well. Did it even open? Had Snape locked him in? Remus pressed his lips together and reached for the doorknob, fulling expecting that it would give him a shock or burn his hand. The knob turned easily, though, and the door let out a groan as Remus opened it.

 

He squinted at the bright, chill November morning. How truly obscene it was for the sun to shine so cheerfully.

 

Remus swallowed and began to beat the rug against the stoop. He let out a sigh and leaned against the doorway. His energy might have been spent already.

 

“’Ello, there!” called a man down the street. He looked to be in his fifties and wore a green knit vest.

 

Remus looked up. His throat tightened. He could pinpoint the moment the man got close enough to really see him. He flinched back at the sight of Remus’ face.

 

“Good morning,” Remus said, with a bland smile.

 

“New, are you?” the man asked. “Did you rent the flat from that foul-tempered old hermit?”

 

Remus almost grinned genuinely at that. “No, the hermit still owns it, I believe. I’m just visiting.”

 

“Ah. Well, welcome to Spinner’s. Not as many of us around here as there used to be, but you’re welcome as long as you like. Eldon Stanwick.”

 

The man whipped out his hand for a shake, and Remus jerked back.

 

_The wands were out in a moment, and three dead beside him before he could reach for his own. The flames shot forth immediately, hotter and brighter than he’d ever summoned without a wand, melting the face off of the man in front of him._

 

“Hey, hey!” Eldon held his hands up and took a step backward. “We’re all friends here.”

 

“Of course,” Remus muttered. He gripped the doorframe and tried to pull himself up. Eldon made a motion as though he might offer a hand up, but stepped back when Remus jumped again. “I’m sorry, I…”

 

“No problem.”

 

Remus had forgotten what kind of answer Eldon was looking for. “I… Just came down from up north,” he muttered. It was a bit true.

 

“Ohh… You’re a _soldier_ ,” Eldon said. Before Remus could correct him, he continued, “Handling the Irish Troubles, eh?”

 

It _had_ been in Ireland. Messy bit of business.

 

Remus blinked when he realized that Eldon had asked him something else. “I’m sorry, Eldon. I think I’ve worn myself out this morning trying to tidy up the flat. Severus hasn’t been back in some time.”

 

“Severus? That sour-faced kid?”

 

So Snape wasn’t the hermit? That was interesting. “He’s twenty-one now.”

 

Eldon lifted up his cap and scratched his hair. “I suppose I’ll just think of him as that boy with his nose in the books. Quiet sort. Bloody awful name to saddle a child with. Good of him to put you up.”

 

“Immeasurably.” Remus braced himself and tried to push to his feet again. This time he was successful. “Maybe I’ll get the rugs tomorrow.”

 

“Might be a good idea. No good pushing yourself now. Some downtime. A bit of a holiday, that’s just what you need.” Eldon bobbed his head. “If you and that Snape boy need anything, you give us a ring, alright? Mavis and I are just across the way there.”

 

“Will do. Thank you.”

 

“What was your name?” Eldon pressed.

 

“Oh.” Remus paused. “John Howell.”

 

Eldon tapped his temple. “Got it in the vault. Now go on. Go get a bit of rest.”

 

Remus shook his head as he dragged the rug back inside. How pitiful he must seem to that poor Muggle.

 

He returned to the kitchen for a moment to put some water on to boil for tea. He simply held his hand to the pot, grateful that he had mastered a few simple spells that could be used without the wand. It wasn’t much, and his control wasn’t always masterful, but it had saved lives more than once.

 

It had taken them, too.

 

Remus had to admit that he was a bit shaken by that memory of the Battle of Curragh springing in front of his eyes as a reaction to a simple handshake. That had happened a few times since he’d come here. Melting faces. Dead bodies. Was it some other kind of curse? Or something else? The kettle started to boil, and Remus set it aside and picked up a bag of tea. For some reason, the tea seemed to have replenished itself before other foodstuffs. Priorities.

 

Now that he was considering it, Remus realize that something like that errant memory had happened once before. His first day at Hogwarts in fact. The gleam of a fang near the carriages, and suddenly he was four years old again, in his bedroom, with a slavering wolf lunging at him.

 

He’d screamed so bloody loud that he’d scared all of the first years and barely been able to speak until Madam Pomfrey had given him a cup of some warm, bitter infusion. The students had all called him Looney Lupin for that for quite some time.

 

His heart pounded in his ears. This was no curse other than his own. His mind must be breaking down.

 

After pouring his tea, Remus took it with him to the den and sat in a chair quietly. And he thought. Just… _thought_.

 

***

 

Severus was in quite a foul mood by the time he returned to his study. He’d been out later than he’d meant to by a few hours. The trials were underway, and he was obliged to attend. It galled him to see so many of the Death Eaters getting off based on obvious lies about being under the Imperius Curse. For starters, it was impossible to cast an Unforgivable without Intent. That was a basic rule of magical theory. Secondly, if all of the Ministry managed to cobble together the two wits they had and rubbed them together, they would realize that a little Veritaserum would have simplified their proceedings _immensely_.

 

He unlocked his study and came down the narrow staircase that opened under the second bookcase. If Remus had gone out to fetch some food, Severus couldn’t blame him. He’d been gone all damned day.

 

Once he stepped into the den, Severus spotted Remus curled up in a chair. Severus proceeded with a softer step, assuming that Remus was dozing.

 

He was not. He was just sitting there, fingers curled around a cup of tea that was probably stone cold, and _staring_. A dozen things to say ran through Severus’ mind, but in the end, he said none of them, plucked the cup from Remus’ hands, and tapped it with his wand to warm it.

 

It took a moment for Remus to look up at him, as though he were on some kind of timed delay and hadn’t registered Severus’ presence until he’d caught up.

 

“My work took longer than I’d anticipated.”

 

“I see,” Remus muttered. He was shaking a bit as Severus placed the cup back into his hands.

 

“Going to drink that?”

 

“I reckon I ought to.”

 

Severus stared at him hard for another moment before pressing the back of his hand to Remus’ forehead.

 

“Snape, I-“

 

“Quiet.” Severus sighed and pulled back his hand. “You’re not feverish. What is wrong with you?”

 

“Crazy, I’d imagine.”

 

“Oh, is _that_ all? After the day I’ve had, I’m with you.” Severus headed for the kitchen. “Did you eat dinner?”

 

“What time is it?”

 

“It’s nearly 9 o’clock.” Severus stopped. The kitchen looked different. He couldn’t put his finger on it immediately, but when his brain registered it, he was more puzzled than ever. “You cleaned.”

 

“Sorry.”

 

Severus whirled back around and leaned back into the den. “What are you sorry for?”

 

“You seemed upset about it.”

 

“I’m not upset. Just surprised that you managed to do that much without a wand.”

 

“I’m not utterly helpless without it.” Remus shrugged. “You can tidy up with a bit of water.”

 

Remus’ lip pressed together in a grim smile that practically turned his lips white. What the hell had happened today?

 

“Did someone come by?” Severus demanded.

 

“No. Though I met your neighbor. Stanwick.”

 

Severus gave a snort. “That busybody.”

 

“He thinks I’m some soldier you took in.”

 

“You look it,” Severus snapped. Who needed Muggles in their business here?

 

Remus sipped his tea and stared. That stare was starting to get to Severus. Remus looked like he might not be in the room with him… let alone on the planet.

 

“I didn’t mean your face.” Severus stepped a bit closer. “I meant that _look_ in your eyes.”

 

“Hm?” Remus narrowed his eyes.

 

“I need to go out to the market. Drink your tea.”

 

Sweeping past Remus, Severus headed back upstairs. He expected that Remus wouldn’t move from the chair, in the state he was in. He would pry him out and throw him in the bath again when he returned if he had to.

 

A little over an hour later, Severus returned carrying a bag bespelled to expand enough to carry all his purchases and weight no more than ten kilos. Just as he was reaching for the door, a deep and trembling voice bellowed:

 

“-THE MOST UTTERLY UNCONSCIONABLE DECISION YOU COULD HAVE EVER MADE!”

 

Frozen and with his heart in his throat, Severus tried to place the voice. It was like no one he’d ever heard. Had someone come while he’d left Remus on his own?

 

“COLD COMFORT, THAT!”

 

Grabbing his wand and dropping the bag, Severus sprung out of his study and flew down the stairs as fast as he could without falling. The staircase swung open, and he brandished his wand before he could see his opponent.

 

Before him stood Remus and Albus Dumbledore.

 

“Good evening, Severus,” Albus said mildly.

 

Severus scanned the room for another person.

 

“Perhaps you could be persuaded to put the wand away,” Albus continued.

 

“What is going on in here?” Severus demanded. He waited as Albus fiddled with his glasses and Remus kept his eyes locked on Albus. His jaw was tensed and his fists shaking.

 

Had that voice been _Remus’_?

 

“Remus and I were having a bit of a discussion,” Albus said.

 

“A discussion,” Remus echoed through gritted teeth, as though the word he was saying was as loathsome as the word Death Eater.

 

Good Lord, was this what Remus looked like _angry_? Severus hadn’t actually ever seen this before.

 

“If you don’t mind, I have some shopping to put away. Please don’t destroy the furniture with your _discussion_ ,” Severus said. He left them and returned to his study quickly to fetch his bag.

 

Immediately, he could hear them speaking again.

 

“You simply cannot do this, Albus!”

 

“Please understand that it is not something that I am doing to _you_.”

 

“Who cares about _me_? You are leaving him in a place that will be… It will be so against him, every day, every moment of his life. How can you make him stay in such a miserable place-?”

 

“Do calm, Remus. I don’t believe you are yet well.”

 

Severus sighed. Lupin was pining after Black after all.

 

“I am _perfectly_ in control of my senses!”

 

“I can look into your eyes and find out myself, you know. Has Severus been diligent in your care?”

 

“And if you were in control of yours, you wouldn’t have the temerity to stand here and tell me that it is in everyone’s best interests to leave Harry in the hands of those _awful_ people! They are the worst sort for him to be with!”

 

Severus lingered at the top of the stairs.

 

“That is a strange sentiment to come from you, Remus.”

 

“Don’t misunderstand, Albus. My mother was a Muggle, and she did fine for all the horrible things that happened in our house. She handled it as best she could, for as long as she was alive. But Petunia is a bitter, jealous, overweening, loveless harridan and she married the same.” Remus’ volume was beginning to increase again. “And I won’t have James and Lily’s child abused by them, for what? Some scrap of protection you think he _might_ get from their proximity?”

 

“The way that Lily died may well be the key to why Harry survived at all. The love she had for him protects him still. But it is a blood magic. One we cannot replicate, no matter how much his custodian may care for him. If Harry is to survive for more than a few weeks, he needs that protection.”

 

“I will protect him! You _know_ what I did in Ireland, I can, you know I can, just trust me in this Albus, I won’t fail him-“

 

“And what do you plan to do? Let him crawl around on his own while you’re tied up? Hope that he isn’t _mauled_ by his surrogate father? The Boy Who Lived but Got Eaten by a Werewolf Who Really Meant the Best.” Albus’ tone had grown harsher and more pointed.

 

“I MAY BE A MONSTER ONCE A THE MONTH, BUT THEY ARE SO _CONTINUOUSLY_! THEY WILL _RUIN_ HIM!”

 

The house grew quiet. Where they finished? Had Albus simply left? Severus descended the stairs once more.

 

“Are you two quite done?” Severus looked around to see Remus slumping in a chair, his eyes half-lidded.

 

“Why don’t I help you put this away?” Albus walked toward the kitchen.

 

Severus watched him go, but instead of following him immediately, took a moment to feel for Remus’ pulse. Remus blinked at him, his eyes more empty than they had seemed lately. Bewitched calming. A draught would’ve been much gentler.

 

“Forgive the noise,” Remus murmured.

 

“Forget it.” Severus went to the kitchen.

 

Albus was waiting there, having set out a couple of cups of tea. “He’s very off balance just now. I’ve known him for a very long time, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this.”

 

“Nor I. I cannot imagine what might lead to such instability,” Severus replied dryly as he unpacked his groceries.

 

“You’ve done good work here, Severus. I admit that he’d slipped my mind, after our argument before the funeral.”

 

The argument that had caused Remus to want to lay down and die. Severus was beginning to put it together, now. No James, no Lily, no Black, no Peter, no Alice or Frank (now that Severus knew what had become of them…). On top of all that, he couldn’t be allowed to raise or protect Harry in their absence.

 

Of course, he couldn’t. Werewolves didn’t have that legal right, if anyone knew their condition. And if they did not, Remus still would have to hold a job and keep up his health. How would he ever manage alone with an infant?  


“He very nearly died,” Severus said coldly. He quietly wished that his words would cause Dumbledore some pain. “He was fairly _intent_ on doing so when I found him.”

 

“I see.” Albus stroked his beard. “I suppose under those circumstances, I couldn’t put Harry in his care, anyway.”

 

“I would hardly consider the _cause_ of his instability as the reason to deny him what you say he is now too unstable for.”

 

“ _You_ would support him in this? I know you heard.”

 

“A werewolf raising a child is ludicrous,” Severus said automatically, as he placed the cabbage in the refrigerator. “And there are wizards out in China who heard you two arguing.”

 

“Then you understand.” Albus ignored Severus’ last statement. “I have no desire to be cruel to him. He’s simply not in a rational enough state of mind to comprehend what is at stake. When Voldemort returns, he will seek Harry out,” he warned. “And Harry will need every bit of protection that we can give him. He may even need it sooner, if by chance any of Voldemort’s followers get ideas of taking over in his absence.”

 

Severus restocked the pantry with a few boxes of biscuits. He ought to try to put some weight on the werewolf before he left. He turned, feeling Albus’ eyes on the back of his neck. He was expecting some kind of response.

 

“Not that I’ve heard of. We’ve all still got the Mark. We all know that he may return, even if this defeat has a ring of finality to it to the rest of the Wizarding World.” Severus closed the cupboard door. “Those who might hope to take over are held at bay by the fear of what he would do, knowing that one of his own tried to usurp power instead of helping him rise again.”

 

“Good, good.”

 

“It might be wise, however-“ Severus leaned back against the pantry and looked up at the ceiling. “-if you let on to Lupin that Voldemort is coming back.”

 

“You believe so?”

 

Severus shrugged. “We all need something to live for. He’s in short supply, as you might have noticed. But, I will defer to you on that account. I’ve only housed him, fed him, bathed him, and mended his wounds.”

 

He was being sullen and shirty, and he knew it. Dumbledore adjusted his half-moon spectacles as he studied Severus in that calm but unnerving way of his.

 

“You’ve done us a great service so far,” Albus said finally. “Those left of the Order would not have been pleased to see Remus slip away from us.”

 

“I’m sure. He’s such a good little soldier.”

 

“He fought very hard for us. We might not have saved Dublin if not for him,” Albus admitted. “It’s unfortunate that so little is waiting for him now, but of course, I wouldn’t have lost any of them, if I’d had the power to stop it.”

 

“But you didn’t. You did _not_ stop it.”

 

Severus lifted his chin, letting his accusation hang in the air unspoken. They’d said it all already. Just like the argument Remus had been having with Albus in the den; it was over and done.

 

And there was nothing left for them to do about it, but move on.

 

***

 

They were at the table, Remus discovered. He wasn’t sure when he’d moved from the den to the kitchen table, but there they were, and Albus gone again.

 

Snape set a bowl in front of him. It was a thick stew, full of big chunks of meat and vegetables.

 

“How did I get here?” Remus asked finally.

 

“By walking.” Snape brought over two glasses of water and sat across the table from him.

 

“Oh.”

 

“Albus bewitched you. I ended the enchantment, though it took time apparently for you to really come to, because we’ve had this conversation twice already.”

 

“How fun for you.” Remus sipped his water and tried to remember what he’d been doing.

 

Albus.

 

Remus felt his jaw tightening against his will. He set the water down and tried to breathe deeply. There would be no point in having at Snape over this. Snape had nothing to do with what had happed to Harry.

 

“If you like, I can actually bring you a Calming Draught. You’ll be much more functional,” Snape said.

 

“No, I don’t think there’s much danger if he’s not actually here.”

 

“Imagine my surprise to see you actually arguing with him.” Snape laid a napkin over his lap.

 

“Oh, I can imagine.” Remus rubbed his forehead. “I share your surprise every time it happens.”

 

Snape tapped his spoon against the side of Remus’ bowl. “If you don’t eat your dinner, you don’t get pudding.”

 

Remus smiled softly and tentatively balanced up a spoonful of meat and vegetables. They ate in silence for several minutes before Snape spoke again.

 

“Do you have a house of your own?” Snape asked.

 

“I um…” Remus frowned and ran his fingers over his lips.

 

“Is that a complicated question?”

 

“It shouldn’t be. I might be able to secure my father’s house, if he willed it to me.” Remus wiped the corners of his mouth.

 

“Even if not, you are his only son, aren’t you? In absence of a specific will and no other family members, you could make a case.”

 

Remus took a long drink of his water. Did Snape know what had happened to Lyall Lupin during the war? He knew that Snape knew what had happened to his mother.

 

Practically _everyone_ knew what had happened to her.

 

“My intent wasn’t to ruin your appetite.” Snape rose from the table and began to tidy up the kitchen with little flicks of his want. “I was merely assessing the next stage of your care. If you had a place available, I would see you there. Since that is still under question, you may stay here as long as you like.”

 

“I can?” Remus tilted his head back, trying to read Snape’s mood. “That’s incredibly generous of you.”

 

“Hardly. I won’t be here myself. I have business to attend to.”

 

“Oh. Well.” Remus sat back and considered the events of the night. “Good luck to you.”

 

Snape chuckled.

 

He _chuckled_ , deep and low in his throat. It was possible that Remus hadn’t heard Snape laugh in over five years. What had Remus done to actually amuse him?

 

“You seem so perplexed,” Snape said. “I find it interesting to see such politeness from the same man screaming so loudly an hour ago that they could’ve heard you at Spinner’s _Beginning_.”

 

“Polite? Because I wished you good luck?”

 

“You’ve no idea what you’re wishing me luck at.” Snape wobbled his head from side to side. “Best of luck, drowning kittens.”

 

“Given that Dumbledore just happened to pop by your home for a visit, I presume your business is of the post-war variety and not the kitten-drowning kind.” Remus wiped his hands and tented his brows. “If I’m mistaken, I withdraw my felicitous blessings.”

 

“Understandable.”

 

Remus yawned and crossed his arms over his chest. “We do what we must.”

 

“No doubt you completed a number of difficult missions during the war.”

 

Remus started to nod. Then, he closed his eyes tightly against images of melting faces and bodies blown apart by curses of all kinds. The FOOSH sound of flames igniting startled him back to the kitchen, and he looked up to see Snape lighting a hand-rolled cigarette with his wand.

 

“I didn’t end up in the thick of it often.” Snape took a drag on the cigarette. “I know enough curses to have been very useful, but once I got drafted by Dumbledore, there was a lot less of that. No point in securing a spy if he’s going to up and die on you.”

 

“True.”

 

Snape held out a cigarette for Remus. He’d never been much of a smoker, having enough health problems of his own, but Sirius occasionally brought some fags in to school. Lily had loathed it.

 

Remus pinned the cigarette between his fingers for Snape to light. He didn’t want to let on just yet that he knew elemental charms well enough to spark it up himself. Let him go on thinking Remus a helpless ex-soldier.

 

“Being a spy is one of the more thankless positions in the Order, to be fair.” Remus took a drag and blew it out slowly. “You get to miss out on the carnage for a time, but it’s dirty, dangerous work. And it’s deadly stressful. Pretending to be someone else all the time. I can’t compare to doubling between the Order and Voldemort, but at the beginning of the war, Albus had me in Greyback’s back pocket.”

 

Snape’s brows rose almost comically high. “He’s a rough character.”

 

“You have no idea.” Remus took another drag and felt him shoulders going a bit loose. Snape had rolled some kind of herb up in this, damn him.

 

“He didn’t keep you there, though.”

 

“No, he needed me more on the front lines eventually. I got as much from Greyback as he could, and I took half his pack with me.” Remus looked at the cigarette between his fingers. “Hates me now more than ever. Pity I have no more family left for him to kill. He must be getting bored.”

 

Snape ran his fingers over his lips and eyed Remus intensely.

 

“I’m just saying,” Remus muttered. “No good jobs in a war.”

 

“Very true.”

 

Closing his eyes again, Remus felt as though he could feel the Earth spinning around him. He’d lost track of how many days he’d spent here. How long it had been since the world had effectively ended? He pushed a hand into his hair and gripped. He would be alone, soon. Snape would be off to the work of cleaning up the mess they’d made of everything, as they’d tried to prevent the worst.

 

He opened his eyes again, trying not to be rude to Snape, who really had been gracious beyond Remus’ most wild expectations of him. And now, his wand lay before him. Snape must have had it on his person through dinner.

 

“I expect I can trust you with that.”

 

Remus reached for it, but hesitated. He puffed on his cigarette instead.

 

That was a good question. The idea of trusting Remus with anything. He couldn’t be trusted with himself. He couldn’t be trusted with a child. And all this based simply on his own traitorous biology. Why would anyone be so foolish to trust him with a wand, of all things? Then again, he hadn’t needed it to cause damage. He was simply more effective at the damage with the wand.

 

He was more effective than the wolf could’ve been, with its indiscriminate rages. How much more violent one could be with honed skill and active will.

 

“It’s funny,” Remus said finally as Snape tapped out his cigarette and whisked away the ashes with his wand.

 

Snape screwed his brows together in an impatient expression. “Your wand?”

 

“No. It’s funny how the Killing Curse is so much more painless than anything else you could do to someone in battle. But of course, you have to _want_ to kill someone to use it. So in the end, if you _don’t_ want to kill, if you only want to fight for what’s right and _save_ lives, you’ll find yourself….” Remus shook his head and spread his hands haplessly. “You’ll find yourself up to your _fucking ears_ in blood and bits.”

 

Snape’s brows continued to contort, and his eyes widened. “You’re right. That’s absolutely hilarious.”

 

Remus threw his head back and laughed.

 

“Good God.”

 

“What did you put in these, Severus?” Remus demanded, holding his cigarette aloft.

 

Snape crooked his gash of a mouth sideways. “I’m under no obligation to divulge my herbological secrets to you.”

 

“Sirius had herbological secrets of his own. They just made us hungry.” Remus shook his head. “Peter practically had a breakdown, he was so sure McGonagall was about to burst into our rooms at any moment and have our guts for garters.”

 

“How you lot didn’t manage to get expelled, I’ll never know,” Snape grumbled.

 

“Because Albus adored James and Sirius.”

 

“That much was abundantly clear.”

 

“And Lily. He was always quite fond of her.” Remus waved his hand a little and pushed his bangs out of his face. “It was well-nigh impossible not to be fond of Lily. She was such a kind, accepting, brave woman.”

 

Snape nodded. “Our world is truly at a loss without her.”

 

Remus tapped his own cigarette onto the plate under his abandoned stew and examined Snape’s grave expression. They’d all shared classes together, and Lily had been closer to Snape than anyone else had. Snape and Lily had a bit of a falling out fifth year and had only spoken sporadically after that, as far as he knew. Now, it seemed like Snape regretted their fight. Odd, as Snape didn’t seem to be the type to forgive.

 

If anyone could bring out the better nature of Snape, though, it would’ve been Lily.

 

“It truly is,” Remus agreed.


	3. A Grand Plan

Severus spent another four days at the flat on Spinner’s End. He’d meant to leave directly, but after the scene with Albus, he’d felt disinclined to leave Remus on his own. There was clearly more going on with the man than a few war wounds, which had now all closed and were beginning to fade, a bit. Though, most of the scars seemed like they would be staying.

 

He could see Remus struggle. How he jumped, how he tried to quell a panic that his body had intimately learned during the war. He hadn’t had another day sitting completely frozen in a chair, but there was no guarantee of his behavior.

 

Remus also had barely touched his wand, other than to move it from the kitchen to one of the shelves in the den. They hadn’t spoken about Remus’ argument with Dumbledore again, or the strange conversation they’d had when Severus had dosed Remus’ cigarette with Hygeia’s Grass. Of course, his insufferable neighbor Eldon had appeared the next morning to check in on Remus, to make sure that Severus was doing right by the scattered ex-soldier. He had been as annoyingly prying as Remus had been annoyingly polite but reassuring about Eldon’s concerns.

 

The extra time was a benefit, in the end. Severus needed the time to find the place he was going, and honestly, he’d been concerned that Dumbledore would have set the place under a Fidelius Charm, or something equally infuriating. On the contrary, the first place Severus had looked, which was James Potter’s explosion of a study, held his answers.

 

It was a risk to come to Godric Hollow for any reason, but Severus was certain that if there were no spells in interference, he would be able to get this done with a simple address. It was miraculous that Potter had ever found anything in the piles of unsorted papers. Or that nothing here had come out and eaten him before that unfortunate night.

 

“I know you kept it, you sentimental old sod,” Severus muttered. “All right then. Accio Petunia’s wedding invitation!”

 

A pile of papers sitting ironically next to an empty file cabinet flew into the air, spilling to each side, until a 4.5 by 6.25 inch rectangular card came fluttering up and into Severus’ hand. It was a disgustingly sugary shade of lilac, and the edges were lined with lace.

 

“Honestly,” Severus said with an eye roll.

 

Petunia hadn’t changed from that bossy little snot pushing her little sister around in Cokeworth. Not a jot. The lettering was just as saccharine, but at the bottom of the card, brightly asking the recipient to come celebrate the couple’s love was a message written in a delicate hand: “As this will be a very small wedding, please disregard the plus one section on your RSVP card.”

 

Severus didn’t believe for a moment that Petunia had a very small wedding. He did believe that she had felt obligated to invite her sister, but wanted to make certain her sister didn’t feel comfortable bringing her then-boyfriend or any of her friends.

 

“I ought to have come. That would’ve served the boney little bitch right.”

 

Regardless, he had in hand what he’d come for. He knew that with Lily’s temper, she probably hadn’t kept the invitation herself, but Potter would have wanted to hold onto it, just in case Lily changed her mind.

 

It wasn’t the name of the house itself, but Severus would need to know more explicitly what he was looking for to dig through all of Lily’s things. And he had no desire to do that. Beyond this, he doubted that Petunia had been inclined to write her sister many letters, after this, and in any case, she wasn’t interesting enough to have a wedding very far from where she would end up living.

 

The church would be near to their neighborhood, Severus was absolutely certain.

 

***

  
Severus left Remus in the morning, when the man was busying himself with housework. He seemed to believe that turning himself into a house elf would repay his debt to Severus, or perhaps that it would help him keep his demons at bay. Neither were probable, since Severus didn’t care to be repaid, and there would be no easy fix to the latter problem.

 

Careful not to make the stairs squeak as he ascended to the second floor, Severus felt his heart pounding with as much panic as if he’d been about to call Voldemort a noseless prat to his face. It was an equally stupid move, he recognized. There had been a reason Voldemort feared Albus Dumbledore, and Albus Dumbledore wanted Lily’s son to live with Petunia.

 

But Severus was going anyway.

 

He packed up a few changes of clothing and a base level of supplies that he might need. There would be no telling how soon he might be able to get to a proper shop after he’d done what he was going to do.

 

As addled as the man had been lately, Remus Lupin was dead on in his assessment of the situation. Lily’s child could _not_ be left in the hands of those awful Muggles. They were the worst of their kind. It would be akin to letting Dolores Umbridge raise the boy. He’d end up a twisted, broken human being. He’d either hate his magical half or be totally ignorant of it. He’d be the worst behaved, most surly little creature to ever grace the halls of Hogwarts.

 

So Severus changed into a dark blue jumper and a pair of blue jeans, hefted up a leather duffle, and fixed the strap of a large black satchel across his body. Once he started this thing, there would be no stopping.

 

First, was the Concealment Potion. He knocked it back and set the bottle on the dresser. Then, drawing all of his faculties into focus, Severus fixated on the invitation. The light around him condensed, and he felt a squeezing, and with a pop, he was gone.

 

When he reappeared, he was standing beside a brick church with two trees in front of it. Our Lady of the Rosary. With the potion making him difficult to spot, Severus ducked out of the way of a wideset elderly woman hurrying past into the front door, muttering to herself about things being done properly, and not how they did it in her day.

 

He rolled his eyes. He wouldn’t be able to ask questions of anyone until the potion had worn off, so Severus set out on the streets, prepared to burn some shoe leather until he could more accurately pinpoint where Lily’s son might be.

 

The houses in this area were disorienting. They were all quite the same, every last one. Though it was roughly true of the flats in Spinner’s End, Severus had never had much trouble telling them apart. While they’d all been faded to a similar shade of gray, each family, back when there had been more people living there, had a personal stamp on their homes. Here, the degree of sameness was eerie. Even the grass all grew the same length, and he wondered what kind of charm one could use to make it do that.

 

He’d lived in the Muggle world for half of his childhood, but never experienced a suburban hell like this. There were a few people walking up and down the sidewalks, but it otherwise looked empty and soulless.

 

After an hour, the potion had worn off, and the sun was starting to warm the fall air just a bit. He spotted a woman of roughly forty speaking to a man wearing a cap and a bright orange vest.

 

“Pardon me,” Severus said as he approached them.

 

The woman looked at him quizzically, and the man turned, revealing a handful of letters. That was right. Muggles didn’t use owls. This man was carrying the post around.

 

“Well, look at you!” the woman said, touching her hand to her chest.

 

“I… Pardon?” Severus leaned forward, uncertain what she was reacting to. Had he kept something on him from the Wizarding World that was improper? He had his wand concealed in his bag.

 

“You’re the color of milk, boy,” the Postman said. “Are you alright?”

 

“Oh, _that_.” Severus tried not to scowl at them. It wouldn’t help his efforts any to put off every person he saw. “It’s a family trait, I’m afraid. I don’t darken up in the sun at all. Unless you consider red a better color.”

 

The woman chuckled. “Oh, Nan is like that,” she told the Postman. “But she’s a ginger.”

 

“I suppose if were, I’d have a better excuse,” Severus said. Enough niceties and insulting of his complexion. “If it’s not too much trouble, I’m looking for the house of Petunia and Vernon Dursley? I seem to have lost the address, but I knew they were here in Little Whinging.”

 

“I don’t think I’ve heard of them,” the woman said.

 

“I have,” the Postman said in a dismal tone. “They’re very particular,” he confided in his friend. “They’re a bit further over. That way-“ He pointed. “-About three blocks or so. It’s Privet Drive you’re looking for. Can’t quite remember the exact number, but they have their name on the box.”

 

“That is extremely helpful,” Severus said. He felt a bit suspicious for a moment, but then realized he’d made the equivalent move of asking an owl where to find someone. It was his job, after all. “Thank you.”

 

“You travelling?” the woman asked. “This neighborhood isn’t exactly the most exciting.”

 

“I am travelling, but I’m just stopping by to see my old friend Petunia. Visit the boys.” Severus shifted the strap of his bag.

 

“Oh, yes. They’ve got the two, now. Good of them to take that new one in…” The Postman snapped his fingers. “Can’t remember his name.”

 

“Harry,” Severus supplied.

 

“Ah, of course. Right. Petunia told me. To be honest, she’ll be glad to see you. Probably put you to work. She seems a bit overwhelmed with two of them to take care of,” the Postman continued. “Vernon won’t be about just now. He doesn’t come home from work until six or seven these days.”

 

“Well, then a visit from me is exactly what Petunia needs,” Severus said, forcing a smile.

 

The effect of the expression on the woman was not good, but he’d gotten his information, so he gave them both a wave and set out down the street.

 

Severus kept his eyes peeled, looking for potential traps and curses meant to keep people from Harry. So far, there had been nothing. In his time at Hogwarts, he’d learned about spells that would bring about a storm when a person approached somewhere they weren’t supposed to be, anti-apparation spells, protection spells that would cut a man in two the moment he stepped through an invisible net surrounding the location… Come to think of it, Dumbledore would probably not use any of the more brutal spells.

 

If he tripped over something, he’d probably just suddenly find himself floating in the ocean or dropped into the middle of the desert.

 

Considering that, when Severus had located Privet Drive, he doubled back to a playground that he’d spotted close by, took a seat on a bench. He set his duffle aside and stretched his arms over his head. So far his abduction plans hadn’t gone badly. He might get away with this yet.

 

***

 

Severus had been considering, for roughly twenty minutes, how best to lurk around the neighborhood when he spotted Petunia walking along, pushing an almost comically large buggy. He’d though for half a moment that both children might be in there, but then he noticed there was a leash in her hand that trailed behind her.

 

Then he heard a wail. She turned her head and issued a barking order to be quiet. There was a black haired little toddler, hooked up to a dog’s harness and being pulled along roughly when he didn’t move fast enough.

 

Severus pursed his lips tightly.

 

She drew closer to the park, and Severus wondered if he ought to hide himself from her sight, somehow. Of course, Petunia was so taken in with the baby that was in the buggy that she didn’t seem to be noticing much else. She also probably couldn’t hear much, with the second child screaming behind her.

 

Severus pulled out a book, made as though he were reading it, crossed one leg over the other, and waited.

 

As he’d suspected, she came up to the playground and approached a small, bright blue table. There, she tied the leash to the table and leaned over to pull another toddler, this one quite large and quite blond out of the buggy.

 

Why wasn’t a child that age walking along on his own? Of course, Severus knew so little about children that he couldn’t possibly answer whether it would be better for Harry to walk or ride, but either way, right now he was sitting in the dirt and picking up rocks. Severus winced when he stuffed one into his mouth, and then coughed.

 

Severus stared in disbelief. It was a pity that he would _definitely_ be caught if he decided to murder Petunia right here.

 

Breathing in and out slowly, he forced himself to wait a bit longer. The bigger child did indeed know how to walk, and as he toddled toward a sandbox, Petunia held tightly onto his hand and cooed to him all the way.

 

Harry was completely unobserved. Severus looked around in one direction and then the other. There were two other mothers at the playground, but they were likewise preoccupied with their own children. No one was paying attention to the unsupervised toddler.

 

Severus rose, and in a fluid motion, picked up his bag and crossed over to the table, where he crouched down low. He looked back to the mothers, but he hadn’t caught any eyes yet.

 

“No!” a cheerful, babyish voice said.

 

Severus turned his head and locked eyes with Harry. He was grinning and touching his lip with one chubby finger. Now that he was close, Severus could see that Harry’s hair hadn’t been brushed, or his clothes washed. There was a smudge of something green on his mouth. The Dursleys hadn’t even managed to care for this child in the few weeks they’d had him. Petunia wasn’t overwhelmed. She just _didn’t care_.

 

Severus reached over and untied Harry’s leash.

 

“You don’t know me,” he said in a low tone, “But I knew your mother, and I’m going to take care of you.”

 

“No!” Harry giggled.

 

Severus frowned and tilted his head to the side. Was the child telling him not to take him? That didn’t seem like something a child that age should be able to do. Nor would he smile while saying it. Huh.

 

“Come along. Quietly,” Severus whispered.

 

“No,” Harry bounced and clapped his hands together as he said it.

 

“You’re just being contrary,” Severus accused. “Normally, I’d like that, but…”

 

He pulled his wand out, and whispered a silencing charm on Harry. The boy bounced and tried to shout “No” again, but no sound came out. Harry’s eyes widened in surprise.

 

“There we go. I’ll let it off shortly,” Severus promised, scooping Harry into his arms, and looking once more before absconding off down the street.

 

He’d made it a block and a half without anyone having noticed Harry’s disappearance and started to prepare for his next apparition when a hand touched his shoulder.

 

Severus spun around with his wand at the ready.

 

It was Remus, staring him down.


	4. An Unlikely Accomplice

“What _exactly_ do you think you are doing?” Remus ground out between his teeth.

 

Snape stared back at him in disbelief. “You left the house.”

 

“I did leave the house. And then I followed you here, and to the playground. I had no idea what you could be doing, or that _Harry_ would be here…” Remus felt himself soften just a bit, seeing Harry again.

 

Harry started bouncing in Snape’s arms and pushing his lips out as he tried to say something.

 

“Did you put a spell on him?” Remus cried.

 

“I couldn’t very well have him shouting while I was trying to…” Snape trailed off.

 

“To what? To _kidnap him_?!”

 

“Well, yes!”

 

Harry held his hand out toward Remus. Remus stepped closer, but Snape pulled back.

 

“Why in the world would you do this?” Remus said incredulously. “You _are_ on our side, aren’t you?”

 

The wand appeared almost involuntarily. Snape lifted his own and held Harry more tightly.

 

“I don’t want to hurt you, Lupin-“

 

“My brains may be scattered, but I can still show you those blood and bits we talked about,” Remus warned.

 

Snape’s shoulders tightened, and he again retreated a few steps, his eyes now looking as they might if Snape had just encountered a moon-crazed wolf in the woods.

 

“You are not taking this child back to Petunia. You _cannot_. I know you understand this! I heard what you said to Dumbledore. And you are perfectly right!” Snape held Harry up slightly. “Do you see this? That woman has him in a _dog’s_ harness! She’s pulling him along like an animal, and lets him stick filthy things in his mouth while she coddles that enormous waddling infant of hers.”

 

Remus looked over Harry, who was dirtier and thinner than Remus remembered. Granted, Harry had been quite young when Remus had seen him last. The child was now sucking on his fist and watching the two of them with shining eyes. Snape turned his head just as Harry started flailing his little arms up and down and screaming silently. He couldn’t speak, but he could hear them arguing, and he did not like it at all.

 

“Oh. No, no…” Snape cringed and tried to bounce the child in his arms.

 

He suddenly reminded Remus of James, one night when Harry simply wouldn’t stop crying. Remus had been between missions at the time, and James had been totally overwhelmed to have Harry there without Lily or any of his friends there to help. He’d improved, Remus was sure, but in those first few months, James had probably slept about five hours total.

 

“C’mon. Let’s discuss this somewhere else,” Remus suggested. He scanned the area quickly. They’d drawn attention from a few Muggles standing on their lawns, sure enough, but he could see that there was no commotion over at the playground. “Side-along with me.”

  
Snape looked unsure at first, but with Harry crying at his side, and his bags hanging off his shoulders, Snape made a hurried nod and stepped up to Remus to let him take the lead.

 

***

 

The three of them apparated into the middle of large, well-appointed room with a series of increasingly gruesome magical creatures depicted along the walls. Some with trophies of the beast mounted within the frame. Snape looked about them skeptically and let Harry down, crouching with him to take off the harness.

 

Remus put his wand away, thinking that it might be a matter of good faith at this point. After all, Snape hadn’t disparated the moment he’d seen Remus. He’d tried to convince him of his plan, and that was something.

 

“All right then. Petunia hasn’t notice Harry missing yet, so we can stay here for a little bit probably. I don’t think anyone would consider looking here,” Remus said.

 

Snape looked up at him. “Does this place have running water?”

 

“It ought to. Could you unspell Harry, please?”

 

“Oh! Right.” Snape quickly ended the spell, but Harry had stopped crying to puzzle at his new surrounding and only made a curious babbling noise. “I only meant to keep him quite a moment. I never intended to hurt him.”

 

“I suppose you could be in a den of Death Eaters by now, if that were your aim.” Remus motioned for the two of them to follow him and led Snape to the washroom. He pulled a washcloth out of the cabinet and a bar of soap and ran the latter under some water. “Speak.”

 

“I wasn’t aware of what had happened to him until I overheard your argument with Dumbledore,” Snape said. “Once I knew, I could hardly remain idle. Look at him, Remus!”

 

Remus raised his brows. It had been some time since Snape had called him by his name. “Children do get dirty, you know.”

 

He sat on the edge of the bathtub and beckoned. Snape knelt on the floor and brought the boy closer so Remus could wipe the dirt from Harry’s cheeks and hands.

 

“Still. He’s… They can’t be allowed to be the ones to raise him. She’s ignoring him so roundly that she didn’t even notice when a strange man came by and scooped him up!” Snape pointed out. “What’s going to happen when that strange man means to kill him?”

 

“From what I understand, the protection spell would prevent him from doing so,” Remus said with a calm he didn’t feel.

 

“Fine, then. They take him, keep him, until the protection spell has worn off, and _then_ kill him,” Snape said as though talking to a particularly slow child. “Or they take him and use him in a resurrection spell for Voldemort. He’s not being cared for. I’d thought that was enough reason for you.”

 

“I am perfectly aware of why _I_ wanted custody of Harry. What I don’t understand is why _you_ felt the need to take Harry.” Remus held Harry back to get a look at his cleaned up face. He lightly touched the scar on his forehead.

 

“Moo!”

 

Remus blinked.

 

“What? Is he hungry?” Snape asked.

 

“No. He’s trying to call me Mooney.” Remus ran a hand through his hair. He was stuck. He couldn’t take Harry back there. Not now.  “He’s too young to really communicate with us, but he’s probably picked up a few words here and there. I’m surprised he remembers me, honestly.”

 

“He knows the word ‘no’ very well,” Snape said dryly.

 

Remus smiled at Harry and pinched his chin lightly. “Of course, you do. You’ve got that Evans spirit, don’t you?”

 

With a gentle hand, Remus caressed Harry’s soft hair. There was so much of both his parents in him. Harry leaned forward and threw his arms up, and Remus realized he was getting a little hug. He held Harry to him very carefully, and looked up at Snape, whose eyes were wide and his brow furrowed.

 

“What do we _do_?” Remus muttered.

 

“Personally, I was planning a road trip,” Snape said flatly. He paused and sat back on his heels. “He likes your voice.”

 

“What makes you say that?”

 

Harry had let go and was now examining Remus’ hand.

 

“You just have to look at his face. When Petunia spoke, he cried. When I speak, he shouts ‘no.’ When _you_ speak, he leans into you.” Snape looked a bit put out.

 

“I don’t think he’s saying ‘no’ for any reason,” Remus assured Snape. After a second, he wondered why he needed to assure Snape about such things.

 

“He likes you better,” Snape said. He crossed his arms and looked at Harry. “God, what was I thinking? I ought to have waited. They’re going to assume _you_ were the one who took him!”

 

“Why should- Oh.” Well, Remus _had_ been the one to get into screaming matches with Dumbledore. “Regardless. I’m not entirely innocent at this exact moment, no.”

 

“I know you don’t understand my reasoning, Lupin, but I couldn’t leave him there. And Dumbledore wasn’t entirely wrong. Laws aside, which mean little since so few people know about your condition, you can’t raise a child on your own. You’d need help, no matter what.”

 

“I felt as though offering a babysitter once a month couldn’t be too onerous a task for the remains of the Order,” Remus replied irritably. “Hagrid would volunteer every moment he could, I’m sure.”

 

“If you want a pancake instead of a toddler, yes.”

 

Remus shook his head at Snape. “This is serious. Dumbledore is going to come after us. The whole Order, what’s left of them, will be on our trail, not to mention the Ministry… And if they catch wind, the Death Eaters, too.”

 

“I’m aware of how serious this situation is. Give him to me, and I’ll stay away from them as long as I can.”

 

“You know nothing about children,” Remus objected.

 

“Neither do you, unless you have a passel of Lupins somewhere no one knows about,” Snape sneered.

 

“Of course I don’t, but you come to an age when all of your friends are procreating. I know how and what to feed a baby, and how to put him down, and I know how to change a nappy.”

 

Snape’s mouth opened slightly. He touched the side of his face and then found the words. “He’s not trained already, you think?”

 

“No!” Remus sighed and picked Harry up onto his lap.

 

“He’s walking already, though!” Snape gestured toward Harry.

 

“Yes,” Remus said slowly. “But most children his age wouldn’t be ready for some time yet. I don’t know the exact timetable, but it’s not at barely a year.”

 

“That’s going to be complicated.”

 

“You think so?” Remus said dryly.

 

Snape scowled. “Well, you tell me your plan, then?”

 

“I don’t have one.” Remus stood and hitched Harry on his hip. “First off… Let’s see what we can take from this house. Clothes, potions supplies, food that will travel. We need to come up with a few places we can travel straight away while we figure out what to do. This place will be good for maybe a day or two depending on how closely Dumbledore has been watching Petunia’s house.”

 

“Why is that? And should we really be adding petty theft to our crimes?”

 

“It isn’t theft.” Remus walked past Snape into the hallway. “This was my father’s house.”

 

Snape got off the floor and followed behind Remus. “Oh. Your father has a stash of nappies, by chance?”

 

Remus bit his lip. “No. He probably had money stashed here, and some useful supplies we could bring along as well.”

 

Snape took a long stride and stopped in front of them just as Remus was starting up the stairs. “When did this become a ‘we’ situation? _I’m_ the bloody kidnapper. _I_ took him. You ought to just go tell Dumbledore that his judgment of character has failed him yet again.”

 

“I’m not leaving Harry with you,” Remus said sternly.

 

“What do you think I’m going to do to him?”

 

“It’s not a matter of that. I’m quite healthy now, for the time being. For the same reason I couldn’t have him on my own, you shouldn’t try to raise him by yourself. We’re going to need to protect him, and that will be quite the task if you aren’t able to sleep at all,” Remus reasoned. “Between you _and_ me, I’m dead certain the Death Eaters at least won’t be able to get to him.”

 

Snape fell back and sucked in his cheeks. “A fair point.”

 

“Together, then.” Remus continued up the stairs.

 

***

 

Seeing Remus this focused after how he’d been over the past week was strange. But Severus decided that he’d be thankful for now that Remus hadn’t simply hexed him and taken off with Harry to Gods knew where. He wasn’t sure about this concept of running on with the scheme as a pair, but Severus certainly wouldn’t be giving Harry over to Remus to raise alone either.

 

Anyway, if Severus kept alert, Remus would likely have another episode of some kind, and Severus could take Harry much more easily while he was incapacitated.

 

Remus’ footsteps were confident and direct. Within a few moments, Severus found them in a very large and very full, but neatly appointed, study. All sorts of dusty old knickknacks were displayed on shelves fixed on the wall, and the desk was piled high with square piles of papers and mail.

 

“What do we need here?” Severus asked as Remus set Harry down and crouched down to a low shelf.

 

“This.” Remus held up a small artifact with a broad base. Runes ran along the edge of the base, and a small stone was suspended from the top.

 

Severus stepped closer and looked at it curiously. “What is it?”

 

“It’s a Surveillo-Scope. With it, we can have some advanced warning of when someone is looking into our area with the intent of finding us.” Remus held it out in his hand. “The stone will change color and point to different symbols, depending on who is coming and why. If we calibrate it tonight, we’ll be much harder to find. We’ll know they’re coming before they are even certain we’re here.”

 

“I’ve never heard of such a thing. Is it made by Edgar Stroulger, like the Sneako-Scope?”

 

“It’s based on the same magical principles, but they’re rare. Mostly used by Ministry folk.” Remus touched the top of the crystal in the middle. “Red is for werewolves. It’s the only setting on this one. We can recalibrate that one to Death Eaters.”

 

Severus tilted his head to the side. He wondered if Remus’ father had been trying to ward off werewolves before or after his son had joined their ranks. For that matter, Severus realized he didn’t have any idea of when Remus had been bitten. Sometime before coming to Hogwarts that first time, surely. He’d always missed class, always had spells of unexplained illness. There’d been a time when Severus had found Remus’ symptoms quite disconcerting.

 

“So, what? We’re just going flit about from place to place for his whole life?”

 

“For as long as it takes to find a better hiding place.” Remus searched through his father’s study quickly, taking a few things here and there and stuffing them into his pockets.

 

“Have you always been this bloody shifty?” Severus asked.

 

“Color me astounded. You seemed to think I was perfectly capable of villainy during school,” Remus said in a disinterested tone. “We ought to look through my father’s library. Or you should, for whatever you think you might be able to use. It’s not located in one room, though. The bookcases extended throughout the house.”

 

Remus lifted Harry from the floor once more and left the room. With that, Severus knew that Remus really was completely recovered. He had regained the full strength of his powers of irritation.

 

Severus followed Remus, not yet willing to let Harry out of his sight. But Remus was simply heading to a larger room, where he pushed a few pieces of furniture towards the walls and then set the Surveillo-Scope dead in the middle.

 

“Could you hold Harry a moment?” Remus brought the boy over to the doorway. “Or at least, keep his attention. This will take a few minutes, and I need a bit of concentration.”

 

Severus blinked. It couldn’t be this easy. But there Remus was, placing Harry into his arms.

 

“Support his back? Hold him securely. That’s probably one of the reasons he cries. And if he gets squirmy, you can let him down, but keep close to him. This house isn’t really prepared for small children,” Remus advised.

 

“I’d imagine not, if there was a full-grown werewolf running about.”

 

“Most of the time, there actually wasn’t. Werewolves are proportionate to the age of the human they are most of the month,” Remus answered without reacting. He walked over to the Surveillo-Scope.

 

Severus watched as Remus drew a circle around himself and the Scope with his wand. The circle began to glow, bright and white. Severus was less familiar with protection spells than attack spells, but he would be willing to bet that no magical interference would be able to enter that circle.

 

How long would it take Remus to become so engrossed with the magic that Severus could just leave with Harry? Before Severus could think on it more, Harry lunged forward so fast that Severus had to circle an arm around him to keep him from plunging to the ground. As a child of wizards like James and Lily, Harry would probably bounce, but Severus could still feel his heart in his throat.

 

Harry began to scream.

 

Remus looked up. “I’m right here, Harry. Don’t worry.”

 

Severus glowered at Remus. How could this child ever remember him? He’d been off to war during most of his life so far. He probably didn’t even look the same, with those ghastly welts over his face.

 

Remus leaned over the Scope and began to draw some kind of rune in a garish red light. “Severus, could you dance with him a bit?”

 

“Dance?” Severus stared at Harry in bewilderment.

 

“Yes, just…” Remus half-turned and then looked at the line of light. “I can’t stop now, or I’ll have to start over. We don’t want to be caught before we’ve really started this. Please, just try to… Maybe take him into another room so he won’t be distracting? Try the one at the very end of the hall, up the stairs. There should be something for him there to play with in the green trunk, and you can take whatever you’d like for him to have.”

 

Face burning, Severus turned swiftly and left Remus to his spell. Harry’s cries grew so loud that Severus was tempted to silence him again. Remus would definitely notice, though. Come to think of it, if Remus couldn’t hear Harry, he’d know right away that Harry was gone.

 

No disparating, for now. Still, Remus might be at this for some time, so Severus could at least take Harry down the hall and get him something to play with in the meantime.

 

“You have got a very strong pair of lungs, Harry. I’ll give you that,” Severus told him as he made his way through the house. “This isn’t a bad place, though. Much better that sorry old two-up, two-down on Spinner’s End. I ought to go into whatever Wolf Senior did for a living.”

 

Severus tried bouncing Harry again, but that just made his cries wobble along with his little body.

 

“Why don’t you like me? What have I ever done to you?” Severus said with exasperation. “With the exception of kidnapping you, of course. You’ve got to like me better than Petunia. I’ll treat you better than a dog.”

 

He sighed and headed up the stairs. They were fairly steep, and the door at the top was incredibly heavy. He gave it a shove, only to stare into darkness. There was no light to be had but a thin stream of sunlight coming in through a boarded up window.

 

Severus lifted his wand. “Lumos.”

 

When the light flooded the room, Severus realized almost immediately why the door was so bloody heavy. While there were now boxes piled against one wall and dust about the room, it was obvious from the claw marks along the walls and the floor that this was where the Lupins had kept Remus once a month. Severus entered the room slowly, as though the wolf might come out at him any moment. Some of the claw marks were _very_ deep. Severus shuddered.

 

“Why did you send me in here?” Severus huffed in annoyance. The room was so at odds with the rest of the house that he felt like the stairs had led himself somewhere else entirely. It was, in theory, possible. The room was more like the Shrieking Shack than the orderly den, the well-used study, or that other room brightly lit Remus had been using for his spell. The other rooms looked like they had been spelled to keep dust from settling. They looked cared for. Not like this hole of a room where nightmares became real.

 

Then, he spotted a light switch and turned it on. His shoulders relaxed a bit.

 

“No!” Harry said.

 

“No more darkness,” Severus answered. “Your Uncle Remus took us to a very creepy place.”

 

“No!”

 

“All right.” Severus looked around and spotted the green trunk easily. “There we go. Hopefully, it’s actually toys, and not more books. Who knew the Lupins were such swots.”

 

He opened the chest with the tap of a wand, and it opened to reveal an assortment of toys. There was a little toy broomstick, and a model of the stars that moved when his hand came near it, and a few stuffed animals. Most of these were not age appropriate for Harry, but the boy’s eyes did light up seeing the stars, or perhaps the broom. He was interested in something in there. Severus set Harry down and started to sort through the toys, trying to find something for him.

 

Then, he realized that Harry wasn’t crying anymore.

 

“You’ve got an awfully short attention span. I’m sure Remus will tell me that of _course_ I should know how long exactly babies should be able to remember why they’re upset.” Severus put the broom on the floor and focused on the stuffed animals. Those might be safe for him. After discarding several for having small buttons on them, and stuffing one that looked like it might have something living in it into another box, his hand touched on a stuffed dog. It was light brown, with black ears, and a little red felt strip at the bottom of its head that made it look like its tongue was sticking out. It also was blatantly stained with a reddish-brown over its face and body.

 

A grisly image filled Severus’ mind of a small boy clutching this little creature as a werewolf lunged at him, and Severus jolted back from the trunk.

 

Why on Earth would Remus’ parents _keep_ that? That was probably _Remus’_ blood on there.

 

Beside him, Harry had fallen onto his bottom and was trying to hold the broom up, although it was too big for him to lift all the way. Severus looked into the trunk once more, selected a worn little rabbit made of faded patchwork, and offered it to Harry. Harry didn’t look at him and continued to try to heft up the broom.

 

“That’s too big for you,” Severus reasoned.

 

Harry was impervious to reason, it seemed.

 

“Fine. Play with the broom that could squash you.” Severus tucked his legs underneath him and set the rabbit down to look through some of the other boxes.

 

Chillingly, he did find a few other blood-stained items. In particular, a child’s blanket and some clothes of various sizes that looked like they’d been bled through. Again, Severus was struck by the sheer morbidity of keeping Remus’ bloody fabrics around. Though, after a bit, it occurred to Severus that if Remus changed once a month, there ought to be _more_ bloody clothes, in more sizes.

 

Unless his parents only kept these clothes for the day after, when Remus was likely to have torn himself apart.

 

Severus felt a bit sick at the thought, a parent pulling their child out of this dismal little room once a month, cleaning him up, trying to bind and treat his wounds as he bled onto the clothes, and anything else around him. Barely able to stay awake and looking half-dead. They must’ve spent a fortune in dittany over the course of Remus’ childhood, trying to keep him from having scars over his face.

 

“Gods, what a dreadful place this house is,” Severus muttered.

 

Luckily, there were some clothes that were not covered in blood at all. It was a different box, a newer box, and the clothes were much, much smaller. Severus picked up a tiny shirt and held it up to Harry, who had given up the toy broom and was now toddling around the room, dragging the poor rabbit by the leg.

 

“There we go.”

  
Feeling flush with success, Severus dug through this box with gusto and tried to forget about Remus. He’d said they could take what they needed here, and Harry would need better clothing than the rags Pentunia had given him.

 

With a bit of a fuss, Harry allowed Severus to dress him in a shirt with a sun and moon on it, and a little pair of blue pants. Even though they had seemed too small, they seemed to fit perfectly.

 

When Severus heard the steps on the stairs, he realized that he’d missed a perfectly good chance to spirit Harry away. He wasn’t sure what effect the blood covered remnants of Remus’ history had on his feelings about the man, but he was certainly unsettled and giving the doorway one of his best scowls when Remus walked in.

 

“Oh, good. You found something.” Remus knelt down to Harry and touched his head fondly. “I’ve set the Scope properly now. I’m sorry it took so long.”

 

“I’m not entirely sure how long we’ve been up here,” Severus admitted.

 

“We should keep this out whenever we’re sleeping, definitely, and have it in sight whenever possible,” Remus advised. He set it down. “When it glows red, of course, Death Eaters are looking in our current location. If it is blue, it will be regular Ministry members. Orange would include members of the Order of the Phoenix, and yellow for Dumbledore himself.”

 

“What if Dumbledore is looking for us at the same time as the Death Eaters?”

 

“Good question,” Remus said, as though he were teaching a class.

 

Severus rolled his eyes.

 

“If more than one group is looking for us there, then it will glow one, and then the other. And then it will swing in the direction we ought to expect them, once they are close enough.” Remus paused. “I also… I added colors for you and me. I wasn’t sure if we would need that, but I wondered what might happen if we got separated, and then Death Eaters came.”

 

 _Or if we got separated because I decided to lose you_ , Severus thought. “Clever. What’s my color?”

 

“Green.” Remus smiled.

 

Severus shook his head. “And you’re crimson, I suppose.”

 

“No, I thought that might be too close to the red, if you were too tired or distracted to notice. I chose silver for myself.”

 

Severus crooked his lips to the side. “Because of the hair?”

 

Remus looked at him blankly. “What do you mean?”

 

“Because you’ve got gray in, now. Or at least since I saw you last, before the funeral.”

 

Remus touched his hair and looked up, but it wasn’t so long he could see what his hair looked like right now. Had it really been that long since Remus had gotten a look at himself? Well, there were the battles up in the north, and the moon, and then the funeral…

 

“I chose silver because yours was green,” Remus said, dropping his hand with a shrug. “Honestly.” He sat next to Harry. “How do you even recognize of this mess,” he muttered almost apologetically.

 

“Moo.” Harry looked up at him, clutching the rabbit.

 

“You’ve got Sir Toby Rabbit, haven’t you?” Remus smiled a little and watched Harry with a peaceful look on his face. “Oh, and you’ve had a change in clothes.”

 

“There’s a box full of your old baby clothes here. Practically new,” Severus said. He was tempted to thrust that grotesque stuffed dog at Remus and make him explain, but he restrained himself.

 

“They do go through clothes awfully fast. I remember Lily mentioning that. Although…” Remus touched the sleeve of Harry’s shirt. “These are spelled to grow for a little bit with the baby.”

 

“We ought to bring some of those, then. Who knows when we’ll be able to stop for shopping again.”

 

Remus nodded and rose to check the boxes himself. If he had a reaction to the endless reminders of what this room symbolized, he said nothing.

 

***

 

Either the Ministry was still too out of sorts to execute a proper search for their missing Boy Who Lived, or Petunia had taken a few days to notify anyone of the abduction of her nephew, because a day and a half later, there was no sign from the Scope that anyone was looking for them in this place.

 

Severus had asked Remus about the functioning of the Scope enough times that Severus thought he might actually see annoyance starting to crease Remus’ brow. The row with Dumbledore had clearly been a momentary lapse in a lifetime of inscrutability.

 

Now that they were packed, though, they could leave at a moment’s notice, and that itself was some kind of reassurance. Severus had found several books that were of interest, mostly tomes on particularly obscure spellcrafting and potions. There were none on childcare, but there was an empty scrapbook that looked like it had been intended for a child. While Remus was giving Harry a real bath and putting him down for a nap, Severus put it into his bag in a moment of unexpected sentiment. He had no idea of how long he could keep Harry, but if he managed to do it for any amount of time, the boy might appreciate knowing that someone had cared enough to mark down a few milestones.

 

It was mid-afternoon now. Severus descended the stairs to see Remus dozing in a large chair in front of the fire. As he drew closer, he spotted Harry curled up on Remus’ chest, one little fist half in his mouth.

 

In moments like this, when Remus looked particularly vulnerable, meek, spent of energy, Severus had to remind himself that he hated this man. Of course, he hated him. Who wouldn’t hate someone who had been involved in a murder plot against him? How could he feel differently?

 

There had been, though, other moments in their relationship. After their first night at Hogwarts, with Remus stepping off the train and screaming bloody murder, not eating a bite at a truly spectacular feast, and speaking to hardly anyone in his house save for Lily, he’d earn himself the nickname Looney Lupin. Rumor had it that he’d tried to go up to the girls’ dorm when it was time for bed (though Lily had said Remus had been simply distracted and in mid-sentence with her). After the first few weeks, he’d disappeared for three days, and returned as though in a daze. The name Looney had stuck.

 

Under those circumstances, during the first several months, Severus couldn’t help but see a kindred spirit. He himself had never been well-liked, nor had he expected to be. Boys in Remus’ own house sometimes hung his things from the ceiling in the hallways, and objects seemed designed to go flying toward his head. Remus had already become a fair hand at deflection charms by the time he went to school, so he rarely found himself concussed, but there were moments, often after his absences, when something would land home, and Lily absolutely lost it on the boys when that happened.

 

Quiet. Clever. Strange. That had been Remus Lupin from the beginning. He was no less so now, even if Severus could see the damage in him clearer than ever. And it was harder than ever to get a genuine smile from the man. Oh, how he’d tried to do that, when they were young and studying together. Not that vague occluding smile, or his tolerating smile, or even his angry smile. A real one that touched his amber eyes and lit them up like Lumos Maxima.

 

Severus settled in a chair across from Remus. The longer he was in this house, the more he saw the wear and tear. It was a location put together out of need. They were truly in the middle of nowhere. If any noises had escaped that dreadful cage of a room upstairs, not a soul would’ve heard it save for Remus’ parents. But at the same time, the house itself seemed patched up. Things been repaired endlessly, and not with professional capacity. Severus could see needle and thread put to some of the furniture. Over the kitchen table spread a number of tools, and a doorknob in mid-repair. It was no Spinner’s End, but it was no Malfoy mansion, either. The Lupin house was a house born of a family that used everything at their disposal.

 

Hopefully that resourcefulness had been passed onto their son. Severus watched Remus as he lay there, his chest rising and falling with one hand over little Harry’s back. Harry hadn’t gotten too much rest the night before. The novelty of being in a new house again seemed to have worn off, and he’d fussed and rubbed his eyes, but not slept much, no matter which of his well-intentioned kidnappers was in the room trying to ease him. It was good that the boy was resting now.

 

Severus pressed his lips together. One memory from the night had stuck with him this morning. Even as Harry had kept them up for hours, there was something about him. Tired and pale with worry, Remus had held Harry close and _smiled_.

 

That child had powers already, it seemed.

 

Remus woke abruptly, raising his wand, and looked around him with surprisingly alert eyes.

 

Severus jumped at the sudden movement. “Lupin-“

 

“Get the trunk,” Remus ordered.

 

“What are you-“

 

Suddenly, the Scope started whirring around, the crystal in the middle glowing bright red as it spun, looking for a direction. Severus didn’t wait for it to land. He bolted for the other room to gather his bags and the trunk. A moment later, he nearly ran into Remus in the hallway, who had the Scope whirring in his pocket, a bag over his shoulder, and a whimpering Harry in his arms. Remus held out his hand. Severus took it, and they were gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Swot: n. a person who studies hard, especially one regarded as spending too much time studying, aka, nerds


	5. Into the Woods

With a pop, the two men and a Harry appeared in a one room shack with boarded up windows. Remus immediately pulled out the Scope and felt his heart lighten to see it inert. He let out a breath.

 

“Death Eaters came first,” Remus muttered. He swept his wand around to clear up the dirt on the floor.

 

“They might not have been looking for Harry specifically,” Snape pointed out.

 

“True.” Remus narrowed his eyes and studied the walls and each piece of furniture looking for flickers of movement. “I’m sure they have no love lost on me.”

 

“Or me. At some point, our lot has got to have figured me out, if they haven’t done so already. No matter how dense they most of them tend to be.”

 

Remus let Harry down and reached into his bag for Sir Toby. He stopped moving for a moment, as Snape’s words sunk in. Then, he took a deep breath and looked up.  

 

“ _Our_ lot?”

 

“I mean mine.”

 

Remus kept a hand on Harry’s shoulder and swallowed at a thick lump in his throat. “Which you say, in the way I might have after being sent to Greyback’s pack. My kind. But not _really_. Not _ideologically_.”

 

His eyes targeted Snape as keenly as he would a nest of Slithering Skump. In response, Snape drew back and reached for his wand.

 

“I am not looking to duel with a toddler in the room,” Remus said in the calmest voice he could muster. He knew his veneer of control grated on Snape at times, but escalating the situation was not an option right now. “I am simply asking you to clarify, explicitly, that you were not in favor of Voldemort’s genocidal agenda against Muggles, Muggleborns, and in the case they bothered him too much, Halfbloods like myself and _Harry_.”

 

“I would _never_ hurt Harry,” Snape practically growled. “However…”

 

Remus felt his insides turn to ice water. A part of him was begging for Snape to say no more. Instead, Snape pulled up the sleeve on his left arm to reveal the garish Dark Mark—a human skull with a snake emerging through the mouth. Remus’ lip curled back, and he found that he simply could say nothing with his heart so tightly lodged in his throat.

 

“I took the Mark later than most.” Snape’s lips grew pinched. “This is why I wasn’t among those the Order was surveilling early on.”

 

Remus tried to force himself to breathe. “I don’t know why I assumed you had never taken it at all.”

 

“You are _plagued_ with naïve optimism.”

 

“I tried to kill myself,” Remus objected dryly.

 

Snape jerked down his sleeve and shot a surly look at the boarded-up door. “This is all to say that you should be more wary of me than you are. And that… I do not _currently_ support all of Voldemort’s agenda, but… during school, I did support some of it.”

 

Remus crossed his arms, feeling like his guts might spill out. He cast a quick look to Harry, who tended to grow upset when they argued, and gave his back a reassuring rub.

 

“What part? The extermination of werewolves, clearly.”

 

Snape whipped back with a look sharp enough to need dittany. “ _Remus_.”

 

“Don’t deny it. You’ve more reason than most to hate me and everyone like me. You wouldn’t be the first person I ever met who felt that way, and you won’t be the last.” Remus shook his head. “But what else? I suppose the death of Muggleborns had little impact on you? And the countless Muggles that he put down like dogs?”

 

“Do not presume to know my mind just because I’ve shown you one part of it!”

 

“Did you celebrate when they murdered _my mother_?” Remus said coldly. He hadn’t even meant to bring it up, but the words slipped out of his mouth, poisonous, ready, and willing to strike Snape down.

 

The cruel twist of Snape’s lips faded, and he lifted his chin. “ _I_ did not kill your mother.”

 

“I know that,” Remus scoffed. “That is hardly the point I am pressing here.”

 

“I saved your sorry life, you know! As determined as _you_ were to end it!”

 

Remus scooped Harry up and headed for the dilapidated excuse for a kitchen. A counter and a wood burning stove.

 

“You know you have my gratitude. I still don’t understand why you would do that,” Remus muttered. He tossed his bag onto the counter and began to fish around. “I’m not exactly _your kind_.”

 

Remus cleared off the counter and the floor over there. There was no separation between the “kitchen” and the rest of the shack, but for the moment, he felt better putting a literal distance between them.

 

“ _I’m_ not exactly my kind either,” Snape said finally. “And I did it for Lily.”

 

Remus halted his rummaging. “Lily?”

 

He looked back to see Snape’s face as bare and open as he’d ever seen it.

 

“What do you suppose she’d have thought of me if I’d just let you die? She had a poor enough opinion of me by the end, and I made more mistakes in the few short years since I reached the age of majority than most make in their entire lifetimes, but…” Snape looked to Harry. “I told Dumbledore that Voldemort planned to kill them and begged him to save them. I begged Voldemort _himself_ to spare her. I did everything that I could to take back the things I’ve done, and it’s never proven good enough.”

 

Remus rested his hand on the counter and leveled a disparaging gaze at Snape. “I am _not_ your absolution.”

 

“Of course not!”

 

“Neither is Harry. Don’t you _dare_ put that on a child.”

 

Snape rubbed his long fingers over his mouth and then sighed heavily. “I can ask no forgiveness from a child whose life I was willing to sacrifice for his mother’s only a few weeks ago.”

  
“My _God_ , Severus,” Remus groaned. He threw his hands in the air and started walking around the walls.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Making certain this place is secure. There are matters we have to take care of, no matter how we feel about one another.” Remus put his hand on the door, muttered the last passcode they’d used on this shack, and it opened from the side opposite of the knob. “I’m going to go out and put protection spells around the safe house-“

 

“Safe for whom?” Snape said.

 

“Well, it was safe enough for us six months ago. I don’t think anyone else who was here survived.” Remus held his wand up. “Do I have to take Harry with me, or can I trust that you’ll stay here with him and make sure there’s nothing dangerous lurking in the cupboard or the sofa? We were always beset by doxies, whenever we left for too long.”

 

“It will be done.” Snape paused. “You have the Surveillo-Scope. Trust that I want to keep our pursuers away from Harry as much as you do.”

 

Remus scrutinized Snape from the top of his shining black hair to the tips of his black boots. Even having changed clothes at Remus’ old home, Snape managed to choose an outfit that made him look like a surly shut-in on his way to a funeral.

 

“Trust that if you make off with him, you will indeed wish you had the Surveillo-Scope to warn you when I come looking.”

 

***

 

Severus stood in the shack, chilled to the bone by Lupin’s words, and the deadly calm with which they had been delivered. He didn’t know why he’d been so foolish to let himself believe Lupin weak.

 

Of course, that had everything to do with Lupin’s mental state at the time Severus had plucked him quite literally from the grave. Severus looked to Harry. He thought of Lupin’s bright eyes and easy smile. He thought of Lupin, sitting bonelessly in a chair, with his haunted eyes staring into nothing.

 

“Oh, bloody hell,” Severus muttered. He knew why Lupin had been so severe, just then. It hadn’t simply been his morals offended, though knowing _Gryffindors_ , that had a lot to do with it.

 

Seeing the Mark must have unsettled a part of Remus that he didn’t quite understand. Little of his response just now was on his usual rational level, until he’d decided to go protect the house. All of it was personal, and yet all of it was well-earned.

 

Severus pulled out his wand and started to beat out the sofa. Sure enough a host of doxies fluttered out, skeeing and biting, and he knocked each of them back with all the force he had in him. It was the easiest way to vent his aggression right now.

 

After he’d shooed them out the door, he turned to close it, and one doxy darted back in and yanked Severus’ hair.

 

“Off of me!” Severus turned in a circle, trying to get in front of that vicious pest.

 

Behind him, giggling filled the small house. He turned to see Harry clapping his hands together.

 

“Does this amuse you?” Severus looked at Harry incredulously. The doxy yanked his hair straight up. “Ah!”

 

Emboldened, another two doxies flitted back inside, and Severus flicked his wand around his head, causing a mist to fill the house. It occurred to him a moment later that the house was now too cold, and quickly overcame the doxies, whose were blinded by the color and nature of the mist, and shoved them out the door, closing it tightly behind him.

 

Swiftly dispensing of the fog, Severus hurried over to Harry. The child was shaking.

 

“Please, please, don’t tell your Uncle Remus,” Severus said as he sat on the floor and held Harry close to him. He popped open the trunk and dug around for a blanket. “He’s inclined enough to kill me already, and he needs the babysitting for when the full moon comes.”

 

That was when Severus fully realized his plan. It was such an obvious plan that he was a bit ashamed of not having thought about the advantage he had sooner. He wrapped Harry up in the blanket and held him in his lap for a few minutes, rubbing his hand up and down Harry’s back to warm him.

 

The full moon would come in a matter of weeks. Remus would have to be heavily manacled and perhaps drugged. And of course, he would have to let Severus use the Scope during his confinement. If matters weren’t going in his favor by then, well.

 

By the time Remus was himself again, Severus would be long gone with Harry.

 

The protective spells shouldn’t have taken so long, but Remus was gone for some time. Severus half-suspected that Remus had changed his mind about all this and had popped over to have a word with Dumbledore.

 

Fretting would do him no good, though. Severus decided instead to make this place a little more livable. He pulled out a bit of bedding to set up between two chairs (which Severus checked for more doxies, found nothing but bedbugs, and banished those before getting to work) and transfigured a rail on either side from a few broken pieces of wood that had fallen onto the floor. He placed Harry in the middle of it, with his rabbit. There was a bit of room in the space to wander around, and when Severus went back to the kitchen to finish up cleaning, Harry stood up, holding the rail as he watched Severus working.

 

“Can’t have you underfoot here. I really oughtn’t have used that fog with you in here, but no one needs to know about that bit, do they?” Severus stood back as he opened up the oven. Luckily, there was nothing more terrifying than a few bugs. He cleaned it out and moved on to the cupboards.

 

“You have your mother’s eyes, you know,” Severus continued. “She was a force of a woman. Always was. Even as a small girl, she was so real. Genuinely kind. And so, so clever. I hope you get half her cleverness. And her ability to empathize with anyone.”

 

He caught the tail of a large rodent in the cupboard and went over to toss it out the door. He hesitated.

 

“You think those doxies might be out there waiting?” he asked Harry.

 

The rat squealed and tried to twist around to bite Severus. “Don’t you start with me, you foul little cuss.”

 

He raised his wand to it, but then thought better of it, and looked back at Harry. How soon did children internalize the behavior of their caretakers?

 

“You have a reprieve, but just for now.” Severus dropped the rat on the floor and conjured a small cage of light around it.

 

Then he returned to his work in the kitchen.

 

When Remus finally returned, Severus had fed Harry, made himself a nice cup of tea, and settled in with one of Lyall Lupin’s books in the left half of Harry’s makeshift playpen.

 

“This is nice,” Remus said, looking around. He frowned at the rat.

 

“We’re going to let him out eventually, but I didn’t want to let the doxies back in.”

 

“I knew they’d be back. Could never seem to keep them away,” Remus muttered, crouching down to stare a bit mournfully at the rat.

 

“Would you like some tea?” Severus let the book fall back.

 

Remus didn’t answer. He kept starring at the rat as though he were looking for something. Finally, he picked up the cage, tossed it out, and then dispelled the cage before closing the door. He muttered “peppercorn” into it, and Severus could see the door blend back into the wall.

 

“I’ve been thinking.”

 

Severus raised a brow, squared his shoulders, and waited. He was willing to make this work, but he had his dignity.

 

Remus walked over to where Severus was sitting and stood in front of the empty chair. “He’s not gone, is he?”

 

“No.” Severus didn’t have to ask who Remus meant. “Dumbledore was fairly confident the Mark would’ve faded.”

 

“That tends to be the case, with those kind of bond-brands.” Remus scratched the side of his head. His shoulders seemed weighed down. “How do we know that he’s even incapacitated? He could be out there right now, waiting-”

 

“We know because of Harry,” Severus interrupted. Remus looked into the crib but didn’t seem any more reassured. “And the Death Eaters have been scrambling for protection after the fact. We don’t know how long he’ll be gone, but he is defeated for the moment, at the very least. Dumbledore thinks we may have a few years.”

 

Remus let his head fall back and pushed both hands back through his hair.

 

Severus waited for a moment, then leaned forward when Remus didn’t move. “Remus? …Remus?”

 

He put his book aside and rose from his chair.

 

“This likely doesn’t ease this blow for you at all, but what it essentially means is that there will come a time when we need your wand again-“

 

“Dumbledore will find other _soldiers_ ,” Remus snapped, finally looking at Severus.

 

“True enough. But you have to admit that our numbers are diminished.”

 

“I know that. I _saw them_ ‘diminished.’ Do you know how few of us actually made it out of Ireland?” Remus shook his head. “It’s some kind of cosmic _joke_ that I lived, thinking all the while what our lives would be like when the war was finally over, and we could finally breathe free, and things would get better. But it’s _not_ over, not at all!”

 

Severus leaned over, picked up Harry, and put him in Remus’ unsuspecting arms.

 

“Snape, what-?” Remus looked down at Harry, who was now yawning and reaching for Remus’ face.

 

“Hi!” Harry chimed.

 

Remus lifted Harry up higher and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

 

“It is not a joke that one of Lily’s friends survived to care for her son.” Severus leaned his head forward and raised a brow.

 

Remus’ cheek was pressed to Harry’s head, and as he looked up, his eyes glistened slightly. He loved that child so much already. It would utterly break him, to lose Harry on top of everyone else.

 

“Let me get you some tea, and we will discuss our options some more,” Severus suggested. “How long do you suppose we have before someone thinks to look for us here?”

 

Remus bounced Harry a little and sighed. “As no one living knows about it, staying here ought to keep the Death Eaters off us for a time. Unfortunate that this was the first place I could think of, since this is such a dismal little hovel, and we really can’t let Harry outside much because there are a good number of creatures about that would love to get a mouthful of a baby.”

 

“Dumbledore wouldn’t imagine you’d ever come back north again, if you could help it,” Severus added. “That protects us on the other side of things. So we should have time to sort out some travel plans.”

 

“Should do, yes.”

 

Remus’ eyes kept drifting to Severus’ arm. It was grating, that fixation, but Severus had to admit that he’d earned a bit of distrust for not revealing it sooner. Not to mention that the Mark likely caused memories of battles past to be far too present in Remus’ mind.

 

“You changed him,” Remus muttered. “Didn’t you?”

 

“You were gone for a while. Fed him, too.”

 

Remus sank into the chair with Harry and cupped his face with both hands. “You’re a quick study.”

 

“I’ve a strong motivation to make this work.” Severus returned to his own chair and picked up his book again.

 

***

 

Now that he knew the Mark was there, Remus had to suppress a shudder whenever he caught sight of Snape’s sleeve slipping upward.

 

Logically, he knew that holding simple ignorant prejudices was not quite the same thing as having an active desire to cleanse the world of all Muggles as well as wizards with “dirty” blood. Logically, Snape had nothing to do with Hope Lupin’s death. He’d been at school like the rest of them when it had happened. But none of this made a bit of difference. When Remus saw him, deep anxieties welled up within him. His skin prickled in anticipation for an attack that probably wasn’t coming.

 

When it got to be too much, he left the house for a walk. When it wasn’t, he would sit with Snape and try to plan their upcoming travels. This place wouldn’t do forever, but going on two weeks, it was home enough, and Harry seemed to be improving. He’d put on a bit of weight, to Remus’ immense relief, and seemed to have grown some as well.

 

Harry chattered all the time now, and amusingly, when Snape wasn’t aware Remus was there, he chattered back to him in a steady stream of conversation. His voice almost sounded like another man. Oh, it kept the low, silky tones that it always had, but with Harry, it sounded a bit lighter, more conversational. It did not sound like he was grinding out every word in preparation for a verbal evisceration.

 

Snape loved Harry. As much love as Snape might have in him to give to anyone, it was obvious that it belonged to this child. Not too terribly surprising, as Snape had risked Azkaban just to steal Harry away, and really, if Remus were honest, he’d always understood how Snape felt about Lily. More than James and the others had fully understood, anyway.

 

House boundaries hadn’t been as ridged at the beginning of their time at Hogwarts. Oh, house rivalries had still existed, but they weren’t between any particular two. It had still been common to have close friends in other houses, even Gryffindor and Slytherin, especially in those classes you shared with another house or two. That had changed over the seven years of their schooling. Each year, it seemed, tensions between Slytherin and the rest of the houses had grown stronger and more acrimonious.

 

And Remus and Snape had been friends, of a sort, before the latter had begun pushing a little too hard about Remus’ illness, and the houses came at each other with increasing enmity. The more it was accepted for James and Sirius to lay into Snape, the more they did so, and the less they listened to Remus at all on that account. Sirius had found the most effective method of getting Remus to stop lecturing them was to start talking in bright tones about how he was looking forward to Remus’ wedding day, and how it would be so nice that he could still wear a white dress.

 

Remus knew that if he’d been stronger, braver, that he could have prevented what was to come. If he’d stood up to his friends, then Sirius would have never dared to lead Snape to Remus during the full moon. A schism formed between Sirius and Remus. They had been close, not as close as James and Sirius, but as far as Remus’ relationships went, it had been important and, in ways, intimate. They were never the same after that. Remus’ capacity to forgive was quite large, he’d found, but truly trusting Sirius again hadn’t been possible.

 

If only he’d trusted his own feelings enough to prevent Sirius from becoming James and Lily’s Secret Keeper.

 

As Remus scouted around the deep forest surrounding their temporary haven, he mulled over his current situation. Snape hated him. Snape was a Death Eater. He was also apparently the only other person in the Wizarding World who cared enough about Harry to keep him from having to live with a horribly neglectful family.

 

And if that weren’t enough, it was now December. The next full moon was right around the corner, and Remus could already feel the beginnings of the pull. They’d made a plan for where and how to secure Remus when it happened, but he was unfortunately very sure that while he was transformed, Snape would be off with Harry and the Scope and probably all of their things. If Remus managed to make it out of this moon alive, tracking them down was going to be a challenge alone. Running to Dumbledore wasn’t an option.

 

He flicked a few doxies off with a few warning Knockbacks. They were a bit thick out here in the forests of Ireland, but not terribly aggressive. If they could keep them back a respectable distance, they shouldn’t be too much trouble, and they irritated some of the larger creatures, so they could form a natural barrier. Remus had seen some potential signs of Fachan around here. They tended to frequent the Caledonian Forest in Scotland, but it wasn’t uncommon for certain particularly powerful fairies to move in and take over other territories if their original homes had been disturbed by humans.

 

When the whirring began in his pocket, Remus had to be roughly a kilometer and a half away from the shack. He looked back through the trees, but could see nothing. How close would the threat be? He didn’t even take the time to pull the Scope out and instead broke into a run toward the shack. He knocked branches out of his way with his wand and strained to catch a glimpse the shack. What if he wasn’t fast enough?

 

Then, he spotted who had set off the Scope. A tall, rangy man with shoulders like a troll’s, and though Remus couldn’t see from this distance, a face that had been half-melted from wizard flames. Duilius Hunter. One of Greyback’s most loyal.

 

Remus now understood why the Scope had gone off, even if none of the pack had never officially taken the Mark. Duilius must have caught Remus’ scent from the areas that he’d explored around the shack and come looking. Harry and Snape had nothing to do with it, but if Duilius found them there, he would either attack them or go running back to Grayback himself.

 

Duilius sniffed around the grounds leading up to the shack. He must be more than half-deaf by now after having gotten in the way of Remus’ flames. This was Remus’ only advantage as he closed the distance between them. Only a few more meters…

 

Only slowing down to half speed, Remus raised his wand in the air and launched a spell forward:

 

“Expecto Patronum!”

 

An enormous, silvery wolf galloped forward. It reached Duilius faster than Remus could, and before Duilius registered the wolf as a scent-less magical apparition, he let out a fierce snarl and charged forward.

 

 _There_. Snape would have heard that.

 

In the next few moments, Snape emerged from the shack, Duilius flung an expulsion curse at him, and Remus reached the shack. Snape had made a motion to deflect, but it hadn’t worked, and he was knocked heavily into the side of the shack.

 

Remus held his wand aloft and shouted, “Animare Ignis!” and fire streamed from his wand, circling around Duilius as it formed distinctly into three wolves. The wolves began to stalk toward Duilius.

 

“You!” Duilius roared, trying to scramble back before the Fiendfyre closed off his path of retreat. “We’ll have your head! We’ll skin you alive, and Greyback will wear you as a coat!”

 

“Do you labor under the delusion you will ever again see him in this life?” Remus asked.

 

He knew how Duilius must feel, seeing this much fire so close, but the man didn’t run as Remus had hoped. Instead, he began chanting and swirling his wand in a circle above his head. Remus was expecting the countercurse for the fire, but instead, Duilius flung a body-bind at him, knocking him off his feet.

 

Without its master in control the Fiendfyre began to eat into the greenery around them as Remus fought to overcome the curse holding him down. Then, Duilius was standing above him, his wand glowing a deep crimson, and smiling a grim half-smile, which was the best his destroyed face could manage.

 

“Burned alive by your own fire, Remus? Wouldn’t that be just delightful. I think Greyback would love to watch this memory over and over again.”

 

Remus thought that Greyback would be quite put out that he didn’t have the chance to kill Remus himself _or_ wear him as a coat, but he supposed Duilius would have to figure that one out himself. Just then, Duilius’ arm seemed to… slip.

 

His hand and wand dropped to the ground in a splash of blood. A horrified scream erupted from Duilius, and he turned, causing blood from a deep slash across his back to dribble over Remus’ face and eyes.

 

Severus’ voice was lifting into the air, low and strong and full of intent, and a purplish mist washed over the area. Suddenly, Remus could move. He grabbed his wand and was on his feet in an instant.

 

Duilius was running. Remus felt his chest seize. Greyback’s pack would know where they were. They would know that Remus and Snape were in league, and they would have one more enemy on their heels!

 

He lifted his wand and gritted his teeth. “Ava-“

 

Snape’s arm wrapped around his waist and jerked him back. “Don’t!”

 

Remus struggled against Snape’s surprisingly strong grip. “He’ll tell the pack! You’ll have a whole hoard of werewolves at your door!”

 

“You may not be aware of this, but there aren’t that many werewolves left on either side,” Snape said coldly.

 

“Why did you stop me?” Remus turned to Snape then gaped up at their house. The whole front had been devoured by the fire. “Oh, what have I done…?”

 

“C’mon. We need to pack up and make sure the smoke hasn’t harmed Harry.”

 

“Fiendfyre doesn’t produce much smoke. It only consumes.”

 

“ _Fine_. Thank you, _professor_.” Snape hurried past the now bare dirt into the shack. He gave a quick look, and then started swishing his wand about, sending items back into the truck. “You check on Harry.”

 

Remus found the boy at the back wall, where they had pushed the couch against a wall to make a secure bed he couldn’t roll out of. He was awake now, green eyes wide with curiosity. After checking over him, in particularly looking into his throat and listening to him breathe, Remus determined that he hadn’t been harmed at all by the battle.

 

“I shouldn’t’ve cast that spell,” Remus muttered.

 

“It was a calculated move that failed,” Snape said bluntly. He’d almost gotten everything together. “He certainly seemed put off by it, though you might’ve chosen a _smaller fire_.”

 

“Fiendfyre doesn’t like _small_ , much.” Remus picked up Harry and lifted the trunk with his wand.

 

“Regardless, your old packmate there may in fact manage to get back to someone before he bleeds to death. And bleed to death, he definitely will.”

 

Remus gave a vague nod. He recognized that curse in particular, and none of Grayback’s would know the countercurse.

 

Severus piled on the rest of their bags and took Remus’ arm. “Well, then?”

 

“Right.”

 

Pop!

 

The moment they appeared in the middle of a cozy, clean flat, the Scope began spinning madly. Snape reached over and plucked it out of Remus’ pocket. Blue, then Orange.

 

“Hell,” Snape said.

 

“London’s out,” Remus said. “On to the next?”

 

Snape took his arm again. “Take us back up north. That mangled sod that attacked us was a fluke.”

 

Remus nodded and focused. They absolutely had to find another secure spot before the next full moon.


	6. Mercy

Three places had set off the Surveillo-Scope before they were able to settle again. This time they appeared in front of a stone boathouse by a large, sparkling lake. Severus had selected this one, as it was the former home of one of the wizards on “his” side, and Unplottable besides. Death Eaters at least wouldn’t be looking at the spot old Meklit had gone to brew her potions, sort through old tomes, and generally eschew the company of humanity.

 

“The lake might be a problem,” Remus murmured as Harry fussed half-heartedly. He’d been up for a very long time now, thanks to the difficulty of finding a new place to stay. It was dark now.

 

“We’ll teach him to swim.” Severus said.

 

“I was considering what might be _in_ the lake, but you’re right, of course. Either way, we can make preparations to make it work.” Remus pulled out the Scope to check it. “Is the owner likely to come back?”

 

“No. After she’d taken the Mark, someone found out that she was Muggleborn.” Severus kept his wand out to disarm the traps as they approached.

 

He’d calmed the kudzu crawling up the side of the house when Remus said, “I’m terribly sorry.”

 

“That she was found out?” Severus pinched his lips together.

 

“I imagine you were close, if she let you know this place existed.”

 

“She was passing things on to me. Herbological knowledge, potions she’d never bothered to write down.” Severus glanced around the grounds. Meklit had probably left a number of assorted creatures lurking around the edges of her property. She hadn’t been fond of company in general, even before the tensions of war had begun. “She probably knew that Voldemort would find her out eventually.”

 

“Why would anyone Muggleborn join him?” Remus said incredulously.

 

Severus shrugged. The ancient Ash tree beside them shook in warning, and Severus lifted his wand to calm it. There were so many traps. He’d forgotten a lot of them.

 

“Why would _werewolves_ join him? He doesn’t think your lot even counts as human.”

 

Remus sighed. “It’s complicated. They- It’s not that they don’t know what they’re doing, but life is so bleak for them. They have nothing, are nothing, to the rest of the world. Most of them live hand to mouth with no relief or even hope in sight. It’s not in their best interests to join Greyback either, but there’s a small amount of comfort, feeling like you’re a part of something. A little bit of security that you didn’t have before. So when Greyback joined Voldemort, they were really just following him.”

 

Severus touched the tip of his wand to the door to open it and said, “Curmudgeon.” “Meklit must have had her reasons. She never joined battles. Just brewed. Voldemort had incredible resources to offer. That might’ve been it.”

 

He motioned for Remus to come with him up the stairs. “She was also sorted Slytherin, back when her family immigrated here in the 20s, so she probably she knew she’d be approached eventually anyway. We were, often in Hogsmeade.”

 

“We-? You mean the Slytherin _students_?”

 

Severus waited until he had reached the top of the long winding staircase to answer simply, “Yes.”

 

There was only one long room, filled with battered leather furniture, bookshelves crammed to the brim, and a faded green rug that ran the length of the room until it came upon the bed, which was unmade. She hadn’t even _made the bed_ , when they’d caught her out at the market. Severus set down their things and went to the corner where an old oak escritoire sat.

 

“I’m not sure what it says about someone willing to recruit _children_ for his army,” Remus mused.

 

“Didn’t Dumbledore do the same?” Severus studied the wall behind the escritoire.

 

“We didn’t join the Order until after we’d graduated.”

 

“Slytherins are a bit more forward looking. By our OWLS, plenty of seventh-years had already joined him and come back to sing praises of The Dark Lord to the rest of us.”

 

“That’s…”

 

Severus wasn’t looking, but he could envision the expression on Remus’ face anyway. “If only you’d been there to give Voldemort maternal looks of disapproval.”

 

“I just think that drafting children to fight your battles for you is a bit… cowardly. And ridiculous. Children that age are barely trained enough to protect themselves in the Forbidden Forest, let alone a battle among adult wizards. It’s unconscionable.”

 

“Well, when Harry’s that age, we’ll explicitly forbid him from joining Dumbledore’s army. Now hush.”

 

Remus went quiet, so the only sounds in the house were the lapping of the water outside and Harry’s fussing. Finally, Severus found the spot on the wall he’d been looking for. He pressed his thumb into it. Immediately, the wall shifted and began to spin around. Harry’s weak complaints turned into a startled squeal, and Remus made a soft noise of interest as well. Soon, Severus was standing in front of a stove and cupboard.

 

“That’s an efficient use of space,” Remus said.

 

“She’s got a basement for brewing potions below that tree out there. There’s not much room up here, but I reckon, it’ll do for now.”

 

“I was wondering about that,” Remus said very softly.

 

“About brewing potions?” Severus turned to see that Remus had already pulled out a few blankets and turned a chair around to make a little bed for Harry. “Or whether there was a stove? It rotates out into a lavatory, as well, if you know how to do it. Everything works properly, if that was a concern.”

 

“I was wondering where we might have extra room. Chained to the tree out there would do, but honestly, locking me up in a closed space that’s been spelled shut would probably be safest.”

 

Severus rolled his tongue along the inside of his cheek. He ought to have thought of that. Remus was already looking peaked. He’d cleaned off most of Duilius’ blood, but there was still a smear of it contrasting with the general bloodlessness of his cheek. Granted, neither of them had been able to rest since the attack.

 

“We can go down in the morning and set up a room to contain you. This will be a better place to recover afterward than that filthy shack would’ve been, anyway.”

 

“I’m sure. No doxies or Fachan here.” Remus lifted Harry up into the chair bed and sat on the arm himself to rub Harry’s stomach. The boy giggled and grabbed Remus’ arm, babbling contentedly.

 

“There were _Fachan_ there?” Severus rounded on Remus.

 

“Well, there may have been. I didn’t see one.”

 

“I insist that the next time we’re bedding down within the vicinity of _Unseelie_ you at least leave me a note.”

 

“I wasn’t sure that we were,” Remus said with a slight frown. “And anyway, I only saw the claw mark that _might_ have belonged to one before the Scope went off.”

 

Remus ruffled his hair, which was looking a bit shaggier than normal, and looked down at Harry. “You need to get to sleep, love. Please do.”

 

A little hum started low in his throat. Severus crossed his arms as Remus began to sing softly.

 

“Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings and learn to fly. All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise,” Remus sang, leaning over Harry and stroking the space right above his nose. “Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these sunken eyes and learn to see. All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to be free.”

 

Pinching his lips tight, Severus felt an irrational anger rising in him at this overly sentimental sight. Even without the singing, Remus was better with Harry than Severus was. At the end of the day, if it weren’t for the moon, Remus would have been the obvious and perfect choice for a guardian for the child. He was kind and intelligent, as well as so brave that it never occurred to him _not_ to go flinging himself into danger. And if that weren’t enough, he was gentle, tender, just the thing a child needed to give him a sense of security. It seemed that he knew just what to do and say with Harry to calm him, to get him to eat or sleep or smile.

 

At the same time, Remus was also a capable and quite frankly fearsome wizard to face in a fight. Fiendfyre was a curse that Severus had never even bothered to learn. It required such a great amount of emotional control that most of its users ended up dying of their own flames.

 

“Blackbird, fly. Blackbird, fly. Into the light of the dark black night.”

 

Plus, his singing voice wasn’t entirely dreadful. If a bit rough.

 

It took a few repetitions for Harry to finally doze off. When Remus turned back to Severus, he seemed surprised to see him standing there.

 

“Can I help you?” he said quietly.

 

“I was just observing your technique.”

 

Remus rose slowly, probably trying to prevent any noise that might wake Harry, and walked over to the bed on the far end of the room. Severus cast a noise muting charm on Harry’s end of the house.

 

“A bit grim for a lullaby,” Severus commented.

 

“I don’t know any. That’s a song by a Muggle band.” Remus shrugged and sat on the end of the bed. He seemed defeated, in a way. It was frighteningly like the expression Remus had worn when Severus had brought him home fresh from trying to let himself die. What could be bothering him?

 

The battle, most likely. Remus became unsettled by the most common things. Of _course_ , being in combat again would cause him anxiety. He’d been very quiet as they were trying to find a suitable spot to stay.

 

“You did what you had to at the shack,” Severus said. “You could have been much crueler, frankly.”

 

Remus looked up curiously.

 

“He tracked you down,” Severus pointed out. “This is what you said. He really ought to know better than to go seeking his own destruction.”

 

“I suppose.” Remus’ brows tented, and his teeth began to worry over his lip.

 

Severus was just about to ask if Remus was feeling ill when he took the Surveillo-Scope out of his pocket.

 

“We keep this in the house from now on. Whatever happens, wherever we are, it has to be with whomever is closest to Harry. It was stupid and careless to keep it with me.” Remus shook his head, looking down at it.

 

“It did allow you to have a heads up before that Duilius appeared.”

 

“It would’ve done the same for you. And you were closer to Harry, and in more danger.” Remus walked over to a small end table that only held a dragon-shaped lamp and set the Scope on it. “I should’ve… No matter. It’s done, isn’t it? But… When the moon comes, if the Scope goes off, and you do have to leave me…”

 

Remus’ fingers trailed along the lampshade, and he looked over to Harry.

 

“I realize now that having set the Scope to signal when you or I came looking only makes it easier for you to cut out if you want to. I was trying to be cautious, in the event that we got separated, but I thought that if that happened, you and I…” He trailed off for a moment. “I suppose I could recalibrate it once more, but I don’t have the energy to do that sort of thing this close to the full moon, and I’ve already spent quite a lot of it with the Fiendfyre, so…”

 

Severus noted how Remus moved, how vulnerable he again seemed. Only a day ago, he was wielding deadly magic as though it were nothing. But then again, Harry might have been in danger, if Remus hadn’t stopped his old enemy. He’d had motivation.

 

“I seem to be at your mercy, Severus.”

 

It was a moment for which Severus had waited for years. And rather than reveling in Remus’ misery, Severus found he couldn’t enjoy the gift in front of him. In part, he was annoyed that Remus would assume he was about to be abandoned, even if it was exactly what Severus had been planning as a contingency. For the other part of it… Yes, still irritation. But he couldn’t put his finger on what about Remus bothered him so much in moments like this.

 

“Or, in the event that we have to leave abruptly, you could go to the next location on our list,” Severus said in an even tone.

 

“I am aware that there are other potential locations than the ones we discussed. I’m not a fool. The easiest time to get rid of me will come on Friday. And so, you will leave. With Harry.” Remus’ voice cracked slightly, but there was no weeping. He just seemed very, very tired.

 

Severus tried to think of what to say to. Should he lie? Come up with something comforting? Before he could decide, Remus went back to the other side of the room, dug out a blanket, and then lay down on the sofa.

 

***

 

Having only two days before the transformation and less energy with each passing moment, Remus tried to allot every moment awake to fortifying the boathouse with protection spells. There were the basic shields against seeing the boathouse from a distance or tossing in large curses. They had to put a barrier along the edge of the water so that Harry wouldn’t fall in by accident. The large Ash itself already had an impressive enchantment on it, and so with a little help from Snape (as Remus was already drooping by that point), they ensured that the tree wouldn’t come to life and whomp any of them.

 

Chances were, he was depleting himself for nothing. Snape hadn’t given him a direct denial that he would be leaving during the full moon. Remus climbed back up to the boathouse, leaning against the wall as he did so, while Snape carried Harry. He was getting better at handling the boy, even if he was still a bit stiff with him, sometimes.

 

Remus paused at the top of the stairs and caught the disparaging look Snape gave him as he passed by with Harry. Harry reached out for Remus as they passed by, causing the look to graduate from disparagement to anger.

 

“You need to relax,” Remus said quietly.

 

“What?” Snape snapped.

 

“Relax more when you hold him. He’s very intuitive. He senses that you’re not completely at ease with him.” Remus slumped against the wall. “James had the same problem, at first. Put him out that Harry seemed to like Lily more, but she was more comfortable with him, and she was the only one feeding him at the time.”

 

“I am not James.”

 

“Is that so.” Remus looked up at the rafters. “I think you ought to start taking him out, too. Now that the protection spells are in place, I mean assuming you stay here for any amount of time, Harry could do with the stimulation. It’s not good for a child to be cooped up all the time, so it might be best for his next home to also have some access to the outdoors.”

 

“Stop.”

 

“Stop what? While I’m thinking about it, I know you don’t like to make jokes or sing, but you hum passably well, not that he cares when _I’m_ off tune, and it’s not that hard to make an infant laugh. You could chase him around a bit. Remember when he and I did that around the shack? He liked it. Or steal his nose, put a pan on your head, or tickle him-“

 

“For God’s sake, Remus.”

 

“I bet he would love to play with bubbles. A simple bubble charm? That would be fun. I think he knows that you won’t drop him, and trusts that he’ll get food.” Remus sighed. “He’s getting there with you. I honestly don’t know how he remembers me so well. James and Lily must’ve kept a picture of me around, though how well I might resemble it now is anybody’s guess. Oh, and it would be good to start with some stories for him. He doesn’t understand everything, but you’re not inclined to baby-talk, and that will be good for his vocabulary one day. Either stories you make up, or if you could start reading to him-?”

 

“Stop!” Snape yelled.

 

Harry jumped in his arms, looked stunned, and then started to cry.

 

“Harry.” Remus pushed himself up and went to take him from Snape. “It’s alright. It’s okay. You’re okay,” he cooed.

 

Snape stormed across the room. Unfortunately, they didn’t have much space in which to throw tantrums or get away from one another. “I don’t need you to give me a list of instructions for your absence.”

 

“The only important thing now is Harry.” Remus kissed Harry’s hair and smelled him for a moment. He’d spent most of his life isolated from other people. Even when he’d finally had friends, it had taken time to let them anywhere close. To even let them know who he was. Remus had never thought he could attach so quickly and so completely to another human being.

 

He was not going to survive this. He would look for Harry for the rest of his life, and he’d provided Snape with the exact means of ensuring that he would never find them.

 

“I _do not_ need a list of instructions,” Snape repeated.

 

“As you like,” Remus muttered. Harry had just barely stopped crying, mostly because he hadn’t been upset to begin with, just startled. “C’mon, now, Harry…”

 

Remus rubbed his eyes, then took Harry’s little balled up fist in one hand and started dancing him from side.

 

“It had to be you,” Remus sang, taking a step to the side as he danced with Harry. “It had to be you! I wandered around and finally found somebody who could make me be true, could make me be blue or make me be glad just to be sad, thinking of you!”

 

Harry laughed, and Remus smiled widely, watching his little face light up. He repeated the words he’d just sung, giving Harry a dip as they circled around the small space.

 

“You’ll be a fabulous dancer. All the girls will want to be on your arm,” Remus predicted. “And some of the boys too, I bet.”

 

Mussing Harry’s downy black hair, Remus looked up to see Snape holding his hand over his mouth as he watched them. It was an odd sight, those long fingers under that sharp nose, and the corners of his eyes creasing.

 

“Are you laughing at me?” Remus asked in surprise.

 

“Well, you-!” Snape gestured toward Remus emphatically. “You don’t even know songs that are more than one verse!”

 

“There’s more than one verse. I just don’t remember it. I don’t think Harry cares too much about complex lyricism or even being on-key in any case,” Remus protested. “I’m doing my best!”

 

Snape was _smiling_. He was trying not to, but there was a smile there, even as he tried to pin it down and scowl at Remus.

 

“Do you know any songs I might butcher for our Harry here?” Remus carried Harry over and encouraged Snape to take him.

 

“My mum wasn’t much inclined to singing.” Snape did take Harry though and looked at him with a creased brow.

 

“That’s too bad. With a voice like yours, you should’ve had some sort of musical education.”

 

Snape arched his brow impossibly high. “A voice like mine?”

 

“I admit, it’s perfect for dripping with sarcasm and loathing, but I can also tell that it would be well suited to singing.” Remus collapsed bonelessly back onto the sofa and looked up at Snape and Harry. “You really should try it with him.”

 

“I’ll take that under advisement.” But Snape didn’t sound angry. For once. “We ought to get dinner ready.”

 

“I don’t want anything. Let’s just get things set up for Harry, and then whatever you’d like.”

 

“As though we’ve got so many options.” Snape petted Harry’s head, causing the boy to reach forward and grab onto Snape’s jumper.

 

Snape could do this. He might hate everyone else on the planet, but he’d loved Lily, and he would love Harry as much as he could. The thought struck Remus a bit unfairly, and he made as though to rub his eyes again to wipe away the traitorous moisture there.

 

“Why aren’t you hungry?” Snape deposited Harry next to Remus and went to the corner to make the lavatory rotate back into the kitchen. “Is this normal for you?”

 

Before the transformation, he meant.

 

“Usually.”

 

“Is it just the day before, or…? You’ve been looking ghastly for days.”

 

“Why thank you,” Remus murmured. He pulled Harry up close to him. “I’m never entirely unaware of the moon’s phases, but yes, a week before, my body makes sure I remember. I’ve see Muggle movies on the subject, and I’m not entirely sure how anyone could be surprised by it.”

 

“So symptoms include lethargy, lack of appetite-“ Snape turned his head from the pantry. “Rapid hair growth.”

 

Remus rubbed over the recent stubble on his chin and lifted his wand to trim it away. “That wasn’t always a problem.”

 

“Even in school, your hair seemed to have a mind of its own. One day short, the next pulled back.”

 

“Your attention to detail is almost romantic, Severus.”

 

Snape made a noise. “Is that it then? All the symptoms of lycanthropy, before the actual event?”

 

Remus didn’t answer for a moment. But what harm could it do?

 

“No, that isn’t it,” he admitted. “There’s heightened senses, especially sense of smell. I wonder sometimes if that has to do with the nausea. And then there’s the pain.”

 

Snape’s hands, which had been preparing the contents of one of the cans of fruit Meklit had kept in her basement, stilled. “Pain?”

 

“Yes. It starts in the joints. Then eventually, it begins to radiate into your bones. It feels like they’re made of broken glass, almost. I don’t know how to describe it. It was worse when I was going through puberty, though that may just be my imagination. Perhaps I’ve just grown accustomed to it.”

 

Snape asked no further questions as he prepared Harry’s meal. He handed the bowl to Remus so that he could feed Harry before going to fix his own dinner and put on some tea. Without a word, he set a warm cup on the table beside Remus, and went to sit in the other chair by the bookcase on his own.

 

After a few moments sipping the tea, Remus realized Snape must have slipped in something to relieve pain. He looked at Snape, now deeply involved in reading one of Meklit's books, and didn’t know how to say thank you.


	7. A Long Night and Morning After

Now that Severus knew what Remus was likely feeling, the signs became obvious that his bones were screaming at him that morning. His smiles, which had once seemed vague, signaled discomfort, deflection, and a sense of sadness and hopelessness. They were no longer very difficult to read at all.

 

And that made Friday a very difficult day for Severus. When Remus had been a wall of quiet inexplicable cheer, impossible to read, Severus had felt no responsibility to try to read or even react to how Remus might feel about anything. Presently, he watched Remus smiling blithely as he pushed himself to his feet and saw nothing but anxiety and pain. He knew what was causing both, not that he could do much to relieve Remus. He wouldn’t believe Severus, if he promised that he wouldn’t be absconding with Harry. In truth, he hadn’t entirely decided what to do.

 

The only thing Severus could really do was brew some particularly strong tea laced with Meklit’s special blend of rose hips, feverfew, and devil’s claw with a sprinkle of powdered manticore tongue. She’d used it for her arthritis.  Although Remus hadn’t turned his nose up at the brew yet (as Severus had hidden it in the regular black tea), the crease in his brow as he stared at his cup suggested he knew _something_ had been done to it but genuinely did _not_ want to know what it was.

 

It seemed to ease the pain a bit, and as they’d taken care of most of the protections and warding of the house the day before, they spent their day oddly at leisure. Severus continued making his way through Meklit’s library (including some books he’d taken up from her stash in the basement), and Remus stayed with Harry every moment. Even when the boy was sleeping, Remus simply watched him.

 

It wasn’t yet 5:00pm when Remus stood abruptly. “We should head down. You’ll need to seal the door from the outside.”

 

Severus looked up from his book. “It’s early.”

 

“It’s December. The sun sets sooner, and in turn, the moon rises sooner. Lycanthropy doesn’t adhere to a proper daily schedule. Very rude.”

 

“Dead hilarious, you are.” Severus snapped his book closed.

 

“It’s what James liked about me.” Remus leaned over and slowly lifted up Harry. “I think we could leave him in Meklit’s study, if we put up a gate. I don’t think he’ll be too thrilled to see one of us shut behind a door and not come back out.”

 

Severus rose and headed for the stairs. “You can stop with your melodrama at any time.”

 

“I’m not being melodramatic. I’m being pragmatic, and quite literal. You’re the one who has to try to get him to sleep tonight. Let’s not give him nightmares.”

 

Together the three of them silently walked out to the tree. Harry was a little sleepy, and rubbed his eyes, but he became alert enough when the staircase opened beneath the Ash. The magic excited him, and Remus repeated the incantation for him, as though he might pick up the Latin along with the bits of English that he liked to burst out with randomly. No was still his favorite word.

 

The staircase spiraled down deep into the Earth. Lights appeared along the way as they descended. Meklit was the sort to trust her initial enchantments enough that the inside spaces were quite inviting. Severus knew they wouldn’t have been able to get past her barrier spells if she hadn’t left them open to him before, and if he hadn’t remembered the counters. That crafty old witch had her ways.

 

Three-quarters of the way down, Severus realized Remus’ steps had stopped, and he turned to see Remus leaning heavily against the wall and clinging to Harry.

 

“Hand him over,” Severus ordered.

 

The flickering lights cast long shadows on Remus’ face. “I’ve got him.”

 

“Be pragmatic.” Severus held out his arms.

 

Harry looked all around them, wriggling around in Severus’ arms curiously, and occasionally, peeking over his shoulder to say, “Moon!” and “Hi!”

 

The room they had prepared for Remus was down the dark hallways, deep into the basement and past Meklit’s study. They had laid in as many wards as they could, but failing that, it would be difficult for even a werewolf to break out of the entrance to the basement on his own.

 

“The study,” Remus muttered as they passed.

 

“Stop,” Severus ordered. Remus obeyed, leaning against the wall. “Say goodnight to Mooney, Harry.”

 

Remus reached out to touch Harry’s hand, and Harry leaned forward, as though Remus would take him. Ever the favorite.

 

“No, Harry, not right now,” Remus said softly.

 

“No!” Harry replied with a giggle.

 

Remus managed to stand away from the wall and leaned over to press a cheek to Harry’s cheek as he hugged him. “Try to be good for Sev tonight. Nite-nite, sweetheart.”

 

“No,” Harry said almost seriously.

 

“Well, I suppose I can’t force you, but it won’t make tonight any easier on you.” Remus petted his hair and kissed both of his little hands. “Say nite-nite, Harry.”

 

Harry stared at him in puzzlement. “Ni ni.”

 

Severus set Harry on the floor and created a small barrier so that the boy couldn’t wander too far. Harry stood at the edge of it, holding his hands against the glowing railing and repeating, “Ni ni, Moon! Ni Ni Moon!”

 

Using every resource he had within him, Severus ignored the child’s voice behind him as they made their way to the end of the long hallway to the end of the basement. The door had been left open, and they’d moved all of the furniture, books, and papers out of the room. Remus stepped inside, then looked at the door, and to Severus.

 

“I’m ready. You can seal it shut.”

 

“I could leave a book in with you,” Severus suggested. The idea seemed ludicrous once he’d said it, but he didn’t take it back.

 

“I won’t be able to read, and it will come on sooner than you’d expect. No worries, Severus, I won’t have the time to be bored.”

 

“Good then.” Severus watched Remus’ face. The veneer of passivity and acceptance.

 

Now that he knew how to read it, Severus saw the fear there. The despair. It was admirable that Remus didn’t bow to it. All he was bowing to right now, as he began to slide down the wall and curl up over himself, were the whims of his cursed body.

 

“Moon!” Harry’s voice wafted from down the hallway.

 

“Now, please, Severus,” Remus said.

 

Severus tensed his jaw, raised his wand, and slammed the door shut.

 

After taking a squirming Harry back up to the boathouse, Severus got started on dinner. Within a few minutes, he’d found it necessary to put up more of the glowing babygate barriers. Harry kept trying to explore parts of the house that he’d had no interest in before, and Severus couldn’t cook and entertain Harry at the same time.

 

Finally, he sent out his Patronus. Tentatively, the silvery doe ambled toward Harry, blinking its large eyes and then leaning over to sniff the boy. He laughed and reached up for the doe.

  
It would do for now.

 

But it was a long night. Soon after dinner, Severus realized they should have put in a few layers of Silencing charms. The howls were barely noticeable, at first. But they grew louder. Loud enough that Harry started to look up with each howl. He didn’t seem afraid, exactly, but the sound startled him.

 

Then, there were _screams_. And those did scare Harry quite a bit. Beyond that, Severus did not enjoy envisioning Remus tearing himself to ribbons in that small room, alone. Severus stormed down to the tree, opened up the basement, with Harry making his own screams on his hip, and threw the most powerful Silencing he could muster.

 

The howling stopped. The screaming stopped. At least as far as they could hear. Severus went back up to the boathouse.

 

The darkness surrounded them in earnest now. Only a few lamps kept the small house alight. Severus extinguished them and then lit up his wand and settled onto the floor with Harry, determined to distract the distraught little boy. It had seemed dramatic at the time, but Remus had been right about Harry. The boy had lost his father and seen his mother die. Harry would not take well to having any more parental figures disappear on him, and even if he couldn’t put the screams together with Remus not being there, he definitely understood that Remus should be there, and he wasn’t.

 

He wasn’t there to feed him dinner, or play with him, or dance with him. And he wouldn’t be there to sing him to sleep and rub his back and make him feel safe.

 

Severus flicked his wand in the air, releasing little multicolored fairy lights. They flew up and then floated down halfway, twinkling merrily in the dark. The colors danced over Harry’s face, and he forgot his tears for a few moments.

 

This night would be horrible for all of them, but Severus would do what he could to abate the darkness.

 

***

 

The sun bathed the room in warmth. Persistent, comforting warmth.

 

“Hi! Hi! Hi!”

 

Remus let out a deep groan, and then a sharp gasp. His eyes opened to blinding light and searing pain. Where was he? What was that chirruping? Or was it chirruping?

 

He started to push himself up but something was restricting his chest, and he fell back, coughing.

 

“Stay still,” a deep voice ordered.

 

“Hi. Hi.” Little hands grabbed at his shirt.

 

“Do be careful, Harry,” the voice said, a bit more gently.

 

Remus rolled his head to the side and tried to make out the figures in front of him. His nose answered his questions sooner than his eyes and ears could comprehend. While he couldn’t sit up, he reached out to the little figure by his side and pulled Harry to him, causing a squeal of delight.

 

“G’mornin’, Harry,” he murmured. His throat ached along with the rest of him.

 

“It’s not morning. More like afternoon.” A weight settled on the side of the bed.

 

Bed. Harry. Severus Snape’s low voice.

 

Remus tried again to sit up. This time, Severus put a hand on his shoulder. “Take it easy. You practically disemboweled yourself. I’ve mended up your side. We’re lucky Meklit had ample herbological and potions supplies laid in at all times. You will be fine, but you must rest today.”

 

“Hi, hi…”

 

“And Harry missed you. I’m fairly certain that’s what he’s saying.”

 

Remus’ head was too full of fog to accurately assess what was happening. Harry was here, hugging his side. Severus was here, hand and wand moving carefully over the parts of him that ached. The wolf had really torn into him last night.

 

“You… Severus…”

 

Remus touched Severus’ forearm and tried to form some kind of response. Severus brushed Remus’ hair out of his eyes and looked at him closely before placing some dittany onto his forehead and scalp.

 

“How have you _survived_ all these years? Honestly. How long have you been doing this, ripping yourself apart and being patched back together?” Severus murmured, moving his wand over Remus’ head.

 

The large windows opened onto the balcony that they had never stepped onto, letting in cool air along with the flood of sunlight. At the bottom was a little glowing gate that Severus must have put in place to keep Harry from wandering out there on his own.

 

“Four,” Remus croaked.

 

Severus seemed taken aback. “What did you say? I’m going to have to brew something for your throat. You’ve probably got nodules on your vocal cords from all that howling and screaming.”

 

“I was four.”

 

A look of indignation crossed Severus face. He stood and touched Harry’s shoulder before leaving the bedroom area.

 

“Were you good for Sev?” Remus whispered to Harry. “I hope so, sweetheart. I hope so.”

 

Severus came in and out of the bedroom area to tend his wounds, and once he took Harry in his arms and told Remus he was going to have to give the boy a bath before he started attracting flies, but for the most part, there was very little said, and Remus dozed off and on, smiling when he woke up to see Harry by his side.

 

When evening came, Severus put additional pillows behind Remus’ head and encouraged him in a strict tone to drink some warm broth. He’d pulled a chair in there, and the three of them ate dinner together.

 

“Thank you,” Remus managed. He’d gotten a few mouthfuls of soup down, but he wasn’t looking forward to more of it. He could barely taste anything.

 

“You needn’t go thanking me after every full moon. It’s going to get tiresome, eventually. In turn, I might thank you for keeping us out in front of our pursuers, or protecting Harry and I from some daft flunkie werewolf. All things that each of us would’ve done in any case.” Severus reached over to wipe some brown mush off of Harry’s cheeks.

 

“Still. No need to be rude. Standards to teach our boy, after all.”

 

Severus made a noise suspiciously like a chuckle.

 

“I found a spell he likes. I still can’t get him to bed the way you do, though. You’re going to have to teach me by next month.” Severus collected his and Harry’s plates. “Get a few more sips of that please. You’re barely a bundle of bandages and twigs as it is.”

 

“I should look into a career in modeling.”

 

Severus snorted on his way to the kitchen.

 

Remus sipped the soup again, then caught himself as he felt himself gagging. He managed to swallow it and then set it on the nightstand. Severus returned and gave Remus a scolding look.

 

“I’ll try again in a few minutes, I promise.” Remus rested his hand on his stomach and stroked it with his thumb. Harry started to bounce.

 

“No!” Severus lunged forward and stilled Harry. “Careful, Harry,” he warned. “Careful with Mooney.”

 

Remus couldn’t help but smile at how Harry looked back at Severus. His eyes were wide and listening.

 

“Will you allow me to thank you _once_ for trying more with Harry?” Remus asked. “He’s doing so well this morning. And… for still being here?”

 

“He was not well last night,” Severus replied. “He _fretted_. He was looking for you!”

 

“I um, sorry?”

 

 “I don’t want a big soppy moment every month. Simply understand this: I will _not_ be the one to take another father from this child. He has lost enough.” Severus looked like he wanted to slam something, but instead, he stormed back the way he’d come.

 

Remus reached over to touch Harry’s nose. “I owe you one.”

 

Severus returned with a large cup of tea. “I want you to stay in bed tomorrow as well. Do not argue with me on this. I need you at full strength in the event that we need to fight, and it does Harry no good to see you weakened over a long period.”

 

“I don’t want that for him either. This situation we have here… I don’t want him to grow up with fear.”

 

“We’ll teach him how to deal with fear. Between a spy and a veteran, I reckon we can manage that much.”

 

Something had changed with Severus. Remus couldn’t quite understand why that was. He’d seen Remus growing weary during the course of the month for seven years during school. He’d known for four or five years the reason why, and after the last month, he’d seen Remus in a much more pathetic state. Was it simply his proximity to Harry? That could be it. Seeing Harry look so fondly on Severus endeared him more to Remus; that was for certain.

 

The next day, Remus did as he was told and stayed in bed, with the exception of a quick shower in the turnstile lavatory. He was still weak and weary, but he had enough energy to sit up on his own without entirely depending on the pillows, and he could play with Harry a bit in the bed.

 

Severus still wasn’t inclined to sing. However, he’d somehow dug out a history book and spent part of the afternoon telling Harry stories from it. Thankfully, they were a bit simplified from the original version. Remus pulled Harry into his lap and asked Severus questions whenever he paused.

 

At first, this seemed to annoy Severus, but then he saw how Harry looked back and forth between them and played along. They had Harry giggling and clapping his hands, even though he hardly knew what was going on in the story.

 

Afterward, Severus took Harry off to his bed for a nap and then returned to Remus with two mugs of tea.

 

“That was a good idea.” Remus shifted himself and crossed his legs under himself as he took the tea and wrapped his fingers around the warm mug.

 

“It was at your suggestion. I don’t have access to any books that would be appropriate for a child his age. Nor do I remember any stories told to me before school. I was taught to read using a spellbook.” Severus sat in his chair and sipped his tea.

 

“My mum was quite invested in reading to me. She was a Muggle, and they believe in teaching children from the womb,” Remus offered.

 

“Yes. Well. My mum was a Pureblood Slytherin. Most of them don’t have such notions. Education is for practical use, not general development of character.”

 

Remus sucked in his cheek and looked out the window at the lake, the surface of which rippled a bit more than the wind warranted.

 

“Hm. My father was a Muggle, and he didn’t have any educational ideals whatsoever. It’s amazing that foul-tempered pratt even knew how to read.” Severus glanced back at the lake to see what Remus was looking at. “I came to Hogwarts with a very uneven foundation.”

 

“You and I were very different in that respect. My father was convinced that I would never be asked to come to Hogwarts, so he got a special permit for homeschooling and started my education himself. My mum took off work to make sure I was doing my reading, which I _always_ did.” Remus smiled when Severus frowned at him. “Because I’m a swot.”

 

Severus fought a smile. “I see that. You were always passably clever. Now I see that it was simply a case of over-studying.”

 

“Had to, with the amount of class I ended up missing.” Remus laid back on his pillows. He was tiring again, but didn’t want to be put down for a nap like Harry. On the upside, he would probably be alert at the same time Harry was, if he did it that way. “I don’t remember you having much trouble with any subject.”

 

“Flying.”

 

Remus tilted his head to the side. “Really? I thought you were fine on a broom.”

 

“I was hopeless.” Severus grimaced.

 

“You earned your hopelessness! You can’t be good at everything,” Remus teased. “I didn’t think it was possible for someone to blow up as many potions as I did.”

 

Severus shook his head. “Now that I’ve seen your prowess with fire, I think it was more due to your affinity with incendiary charms than anything else.”

 

“I honestly wish I could claim that.” Remus shrugged and yawned. “It was always more of an issue with focusing on what I wanted to focus on. If I’d had a better understanding of it going in, I might’ve done better, but it wasn’t my father’s subject either, and he skimped on it for the more obviously useful standards of elemental charms, deflection and disarmament, and protection spells.”

 

“If a werewolf mauled my child at four years old, I would’ve done the same, no matter how bloody useful potions are.”

 

Remus felt his throat tighten. He almost wished he hadn’t told him that. “Fair enough. There was a reason he only set the Scope to warn for werewolves.”

 

“And he trained you up to ward them off when he wasn’t at home?”

 

Remus set his mug on the nightstand and closed his eyes. “Precisely.”

 

“No wonder you don’t approve recruiting children for battle,” Severus replied in a leading tone.

 

“I was happy to learn the spells.” He pointed at himself. “Swot.”

 

“Fine,” Severus replied impatiently. He’d been hoping more than a flippant reply, clearly.

 

Remus drew in a deep breath. Someone who must have carried him up to the boathouse, cleaned him up, and dressed him in pajamas deserved a bit of trust. “I think I’ve mentioned that my father hated werewolves. He _hated_ them, deeply. There were crimes he’d been investigating. Murdered children… Anyway, Fenrir Greyback got hauled in, but no one working in the Ministry either knew enough or cared enough to know what he was. After he was released, since they couldn’t prove anything, he came for me in retaliation for something my father said to him during an interrogation.”

 

“That’s a bit of an extreme reaction. I’m sure Greyback’s utterly enamored of you now that you’ve used him for information and stolen half his pack to the Order’s side.”

 

Remus screwed his lips to the side. “My father tried everything to cure me. Everything you could possibly imagine both rational and imaginary, safe or otherwise. But… There’s no cure, of course. Father did love me, but he always hated that part of me. He didn’t have to say it. I wanted to learn defensive magic because I wanted to prove that I was one of the good ones. I _wanted_ to be able to protect my mum from them. I was never afraid of anything so much as I was the idea that I might get out one night and hurt her.”

 

Severus was quiet for a long stretch. Remus could’ve fallen asleep in the quiet out the house, no sounds intruding aside from the soft breathing of Harry in the other room, but he no longer felt tired.

 

“You don’t have to worry about that happening with Harry. We won’t let it.”

 

Remus sucked in his lower lip and frowned as he nodded. “Am I allowed to say thank you?”

 

“If you must. But then you need to take a nap.” Severus rose and closed the balcony windows. “But I’m not rubbing your stomach or singing you a lullaby.”

 

“I can manage on my own, I think.”


	8. Rare Pleasures and Spontaneous Outings

The lake rippled like diamonds were dancing along the surface. The sunlight streamed into the boathouse through the balcony, shedding golden light through the whole chamber. Severus woke to the chubby face of a toddler smiling at him and the smell of breakfast cooking. Remus waved at him from the stove. He had some eggs on the stove and was doing something with food from the cans that had been brought up from the basement.

 

“Where on _Earth_ did you find eggs?” Severus asked, cupping the back of Harry’s head.

 

“I went out for a walk this morning. Did you know your friend had a few chickens about? They’re still in the woods.” Remus scraped up some of the eggs and put them on a plate with a bit of canned fruit and handed the plate over to Severus.  “Didn’t mind me too much.”

 

“Is that so?” Severus frowned down at his eggs and gave them a sniff.

 

“I already fed Harry.”

 

“Why are you up so bloody early?” Severus groused.

 

Remus shrugged. “Had two cups of tea. Also, I’ve been monopolizing the bed for the past two days, so I’m well rested. You can take it tonight, though.”

 

Severus grunted. He scowled up at Remus as he handed him a fork. He had the temptation to stab Remus with it for daring to be so damn chipper.

 

But after breakfast, Remus took Harry down to get some time outside, and let Severus have time to himself to shower. It was the first one he’d had in weeks that didn’t have Remus and Harry quite close by and at least in Remus’ case, pretending not to realize that they were once again in the same room with one of them _undressed_.

 

Given the current circumstances, it seemed like it was unavoidable these days not to see one another’s bare arses. Try as they might, the quarters were too close. Turned backs as they dressed, pointedly finding something to do with Harry when the other was trying to shower… They were still bumping into one another.

 

And of course, there had been what had been waiting for Severus the morning after the full moon. He hadn’t been exaggerating even slightly about Remus’ injuries. He’d opened the door to find Remus lying there on his side, wearing nothing but his own blood. The gash across his abdomen had run so deep that Severus had been afraid to move him. He’d kept Harry in the study while he’d placed spells on Remus to hold the wounds together, and threw a cape over him before taking Remus in his arms to carry him up the stairs.

 

They’d gone slowly, as Severus had to let Harry handle the stairs himself. He wasn’t in any way looking forward to the _next_ full moon.

 

Today, though, with Remus clearly feeling better, Severus fully appreciated the comments Remus had made a month ago. He’d said Pomfrey had her hands full with him. But she was ten times the healer Severus fancied himself to be, and Severus had never seen Remus in such poor shape at Hogwarts.

 

He breathed in deep as the hot water washed over him. He had roughly four weeks before they all had to go through this again. Remus growing weak, Harry growing scared, and Severus having to clean up the gory aftereffects. Honestly, the situation seemed untenable. There was an ache deep in his belly just thinking of Remus lying there, having so ferociously attacked himself. But he could no more take Remus from Harry now than one of the boy’s limbs.

 

It was all too much.

 

After climbing out of the shower, Severus lifted his wand to dry off quickly and went to see about clothing. He sifted through a number of unclean jumpers and hesitated on the bloody cloak. He’d forgotten to clean it up, so caught up in dealing with wounds and shielding Harry from seeing how badly Remus had been injured. Finally, he found something clean in his duffle. A dark green shirt, thin but long-sleeved at least.

 

He had to don a long black duster that he’d liberated from Remus’ father’s closet as well. As it was now early December, keeping warm was going to be a challenge, if the two of them weren’t careful. They’d been lucky it hadn’t yet snowed.

 

Severus spotted Remus and Harry walking alongside the edge of the lake. He paused, watching them for a moment as he settled on the stone ledge that extended from the opening of the boathouse (where a boat really ought to have been) along the side and around the back, forcing one to leave through a path at the back of the house, if one were to access the Ash’s basement or the forest. Remus had positioned himself between Harry and the lake and was pointing things out as they strolled. Harry walked and hopped along Remus’ side, as happy as Severus had ever seen him.

 

When Remus spotted Severus, he offered Severus a second wave of the day, and leaned over to Harry, who looked up from a flower in his hands, and waved too. Severus found himself waving back, as though it made all that much sense when they’d be at the wall in a moment.

 

“I hope you got to enjoy a few moments to yourself,” Remus offered once they were close enough to speak. He hadn’t walked around, and instead leaned on the ledge with his forearms.

 

“What a rare pleasure it is to be alone, when you’ve got to be surrounded by others,” Severus said dryly.

 

“And what a rare pleasure to be with others, when you’ve been forced to be alone,” Remus countered with a smile.

 

And it was genuine. He looked at the lake once more and pointed. “We’ve got company. Undine.”

 

“Un-deen? Did we cover those in Dark Arts?”

 

“No. Defense Against the Dark Arts was a bit of a revolving door, wasn’t it?” Remus watched the surface of the lake with keen eyes. “I learned a lot from my father outside of Hogwarts, as I think I’ve said. My memories get scattered around the full moon, so if I tell you something twice, just let me know, or give me a knock or something.”

 

“Good to have permission.”

 

Remus gestured again to the lake. “See how the water moves? The wind is too light to be making the waves move quite that much.”

 

Severus leaned over to pick up Harry, who was hopping at the bottom of the ledge. “That doesn’t mean there are magical creatures down there. It could be fish.”

 

“It could be. But look at the water itself. Look at the light and just… _listen_ a moment.”

 

Severus first put his hand behind Harry’s back to ensure he didn’t wander or fall and then did as Remus asked. He studied the surface of the water. It was a deep green, and it _was_ moving. The distinction was that it wasn’t moving evenly. Most areas of it rippled along gently as any lake would do. But then a spot on the other side of the house seemed to shudder, and the shining light went from reflection of the daylight to multiple twinkling colors.

 

The sound as this happened was so faint that Severus nearly missed it, even listening attentively. It sounded like… Like someone far away was pressing down on several discordant keys of an organ. That had been tuned badly.

 

“What is _that_?” Severus turned to Remus, who was staring at the spot Severus had eventually found.

 

Remus’ pupils were a bit large, and he blinked quickly. “That’s what it sounds like when Undine are moving about at the bottom of your lake. They’re not common to this location in particular. I believe your friend may have brought them in to keep anyone from approaching her home from the lake.”

 

“Sounds like her. What do they do?”

 

“Not as nice as mermaids, I’m afraid.”

 

Severus snorted. “As a Slytherin whose common room was under the bloody lake, I can tell you that mermaids aren’t all _that_ nice.”

 

“Yes. Well. They mostly keep to themselves and got on well enough with the professors. Undine don’t like people all that much. Except for as a food source or fertilizer.”

 

Severus swallowed. They were going to have to keep Harry from that lake. No swimming lessons to be had here.

 

“They won’t come out to lure anyone in, but once you’re swimming in their waters, they grab your ankles and hold you under until you’ve stopped breathing.” Remus traced a finger along the stones of the ledge. “Or they’ll put a bubble around your head to allow you to breathe, and use your body as a host for their eggs.”

 

Severus felt his mouth gaping in disbelief. “How did they managed not to cover that delightful bit in school?”

 

“I can’t guess, but I suppose they didn’t think it necessary. There are loads of creatures out in the world, many of which have agendas entirely separate from humans. Some we can reason with, and some have absolutely no desire to even use our framework of reason.” Remus took Harry’s hand and squeezed it. “Anyway, you asked that I keep you alert of the Unseelie whenever they were nearby, or might be.”

 

“Any chance there are Fachan here?”

 

Remus shook his head definitively. “No, not at all. The only reason I thought it might be at our last home was a few claw marks, and I didn’t have a chance to investigate properly.”

 

“How would _I_ know if we had one lurking around?”

 

Remus rubbed a few fingers over his mouth. “Well, I’m not sure you would-“

 

“That’s helpful.”

 

“That’s not my fault. Honestly-“ Remus sighed. “To begin, to be able to see the residue they leave, you would have to be a bit of a magical creature yourself.”

 

“Like a werewolf.”

 

“Yes. Or an Animagus, or Giant, or House Elf, something of the sort. Their claws leave this poison behind that looks a bit, to us, like… It’s how you see something through the tip of a flame. It’s distorted. What _you_ could see would be the tracks of a large foot, all in a row. They only have the one leg and the one arm. Occasionally, you may see the foot and the hand, if they are moving at a gallop, and at the edge of the tracks, the claws dig into the ground. Cut through everything, even stone.”

 

Severus nodded, feeling once again like Remus was lecturing to him, but it was important information. “And this poison, that I can’t see?”

 

“It’s nothing special, actually. A general anti-paralysis spell or tincture would counteract it. And if they’ve left the area, the poison degrades and becomes useless.”

 

Severus found himself clutching Harry’s shoulder tightly. “Useful to have around, you are. You’d think that Dumbledore would’ve kept a better eye on you.”

 

“I’m told he had a quite a few things to deal with, other than one overdramatic werewolf.”

 

“I never called you overdramatic.” His exact words had been _melodramatic_. These distinctions were important, and it was possible Remus didn’t remember exactly what had been said.

 

“Didn’t you? Oh, well. I can read between the lines.”

 

Severus cleared his throat. “How do we deal with our watery neighbors, then?”

 

“We can bring them some food.”

 

“Humans?”

 

“They like humans best, but we could bring them other meat. Fresh. I’m sure they’re tired of the fish here, if Meklit has been gone for a long time. And…” Remus paused. “They would have smelled the blood the other day. Werewolves aren’t very appetizing to them, but it’s probably what’s making the water move so much now. They’re restless, and they know wizards are about.”

 

“That I suppose we can help them with. We ought to get to a market soon anyway.” Severus stretched with one arm and tried to make a mental tally of their supplies.

 

 “Will it be safe to go out?”

 

“Meklit always had the components for a Polyjuice on hand, and I can go to a Muggle market.”

 

Remus nodded. “That would do it. I’m still not sure what to do in the case that we got separated from one another. Though I have been thinking about a bit of note-passing magic we used in school.”

 

“Notes?” Severus sighed and rolled his eyes. “Going to spread some gossip with me?”

 

Remus ignored Severus’ response and continued: “There are ways to bespell parchment to only respond to whomever we choose. We used it—members of the Order—to send notes to one another while in different locations.” Remus closed his eyes tightly, pushed back from the wall, and withdrew from Severus and Harry. “I, um, I had a piece on me that I used to inform the Order regarding things Greyback was up to. Anything I-I heard, pack related or otherwise. The spell, it…” He opened his eyes and looked down at the dirt. “I could write on the paper, and it would absorb the message, which would reappear on the paper of the person who had its match.”

 

“Dead useful,” Severus repeated. He considered putting Harry in Remus’ arms, as that tended to disrupt whatever dark path his thoughts were beginning to take, but this time, he decided to leave Remus on his own. Instead, Severus reached out and touched his shoulder.

 

Remus jumped and shot Severus a look as though he’d just been pinched in an intimate place.

 

“Focus, Remus,” Severus said slowly. “What do we need to make this parchment?”

 

“The…” Remus closed his eyes again, took a breath, and then tilted his head to the right. “Ah, yes. Well, parchment, of course. And ink. We’ll prepare an herb wash for the parchment, and once it’s dried, the rest of it is really just complex charm and rune work.”

 

“And the soak includes?” Severus pressed.

 

Remus massaged his temples, let his breath out slowly, and then opened his eyes again, seeming to be steadier. “Ague root, angelica, black and blue cohash, fumitory, and wood sanicle. Oh, no… The sanicle ought to be mixed in with the ink, and I’ll enchant it. Then after the soak, and the drying, and the ink being mixed, I’ll perform the charms and write in the instructions. Finally, we rip the thing in half, and each of us takes a piece. Anything I write on mine will sink into yours for you to read, and you can banish the message if you have to and recall it later.”

 

“You know, I didn’t rightly believe you before, but you _are_ a swot,” Severus said lightly. This particular bit of magic was so damned clever. If it worked. “And you used this in the Order? I wish Dumbledore had thought to give _me_ a piece. It would’ve made things easier for me.”

 

“After I left, I’m sure Greyback told Voldemort how I had been passing messages. It wouldn’t have been much use for undercover, as it takes several years for the parchment to smell normal again, and even if the Death Eaters couldn’t get our messages—this type of magic is very good at detecting the intent of the user—they would know the papers were ours.”

 

Harry was getting restless and tried to crawl past Severus. He flicked his wand along the edge to put up a barrier and let him crawl. They could keep an eye on him, as long as he was heading in the direction of the tree and not that infested lake.

 

“And you came up with this method?”

 

Remus let out a ghost of a laugh. “Oh, no.”

 

“It sounds like you, though. All charms and runes and obscure artifacts.”

 

“Aside from the part creating a complex wash for the parchment. That’s essentially potion-making.”

 

“Well, I’ll handle that.”

 

Remus paused, pressed his lips together as though he were thinking hard, and finally said, “James helped with that bit when we were coming up with it. He and Sirius figured out how to blend the materials, and I worked mostly on the charms and runes. And to be fair, I talked with Lily a good bit on the theory before she knew what she was consulting on.”

 

There was something he was still not telling Severus. That was obvious, but perhaps Remus didn’t want to dwell too long on his dead friends. That would be understandable. Recalling bits about his time with Greyback was difficult enough.

 

“That you made use of the help you had makes it no less impressive. I feel I’ve lucked out, as there aren’t many wizards left from our class with your breadth of knowledge and skill, particularly as a counterpoint to my own.” Severus paused. “Perhaps Mulciber. He’s _technically_ alive, though rotting away in Azkaban.”

 

Remus made a noise of disgust. “You can call me daft optimist, rabid wolf, or Looney Lupin, if you like, but don’t compare me to either Mulciber, junior or senior. _If_ you please.”

 

Severus felt heat flush his cheeks. “It was meant as a comment on your capability and intelligence, not on your prejudices.”

 

“They were both _Death Eaters_ , Snape.” Remus launched himself up the ledge and walked around Severus to stop Harry from putting something in his mouth.

 

“I don’t think I could be more informed of that fact. I watched both of their trials, and the son cursed my name and wished me a horribly painful death as I sat behind Dumbledore. But Cato Mulciber was my friend in school, before he joined his father. Even if now it seems a foregone conclusion that he would do so.”

 

His stomach was clenched so tightly that it hurt. After all this time, he didn’t want to go back to Remus shutting him out, but it was hard not to be defensive in this matter. “I never had a lot of friends. Not at Spinner’s End, and not at Hogwarts. It was Lily. Only ever Lily. And then there was Cato… I admired him a _great_ deal. He was very brilliant, and _strong_ , and he seemed to know _everything_ about curses and countercurses, and when I was by his side, no one called me Halfblood or other names. Also… He was very flawed, and I found myself overlooking those flaws and the costs I knew came with that strength both in him and his other friends.”

 

Severus watched Harry’s face. He was looking at him with Lily’s eyes. What would their lives have been like if he’d had the sense to listen to her? Would Lily still be with them now?

 

“Lily warned me. I made poor choices. And I lost her and made even graver mistakes.”

 

Remus sank onto the ledge to sit and covered his mouth. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking right now. But he looked as torn as Severus felt.

 

“I reckon I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t know what it was like to be so caught up with your friends that you ignored the things they did that were wrong,” Remus said finally.

 

Severus pinched his lips together and arched a brow.

 

“I’ve often thought that I could’ve… Maybe I could have stopped what happened. If I’d been more proactive. If I’d set boundaries with Sirius. I never could seem to. James listened, if I actually spoke up, but Sirius… It was so hard to even say a word he didn’t like.”

 

Severus clenched his jaw hard.

 

“I should have. I should have stopped being his friend after that, even if it cost me James. It might have made some kind of difference.” Remus lifted his wand to create a little floating ball for Harry to play with. “Might James have then seen something in Sirius to indicate that he would betray them? Might Lily have pressured James to cut off association with him, even if just for your and my sake? Just don’t know.”

 

Severus turned to watch the lake. The lights were dancing on it again. Hungry little Undine below the surface of the water.

 

“If you think you could’ve split up Potter and Black, you really are Looney.”

 

“Probably. I think I’m still more than half crazy.”

 

Severus sighed. “You aren’t crazy, Remus. You’re damaged. You’ve been in the Muggle world. Don’t they have words to describe this? I’m sure they do. They’ve had plenty of wars.”

 

Remus said nothing, so Severus turned to see an irritated, skeptical look on his face.

 

Severus went over to Remus and sat next to him. He drew his wand, added a second glowing ball that shifted between different shapes, and watched Harry trying to decide which lights to try to grab.

 

“Remus, it wasn’t your fault, what Black did to me. It was his fault and his alone. You trusted him, and he betrayed that trust. I’m no expert on Ministry law, but there is none I know of forbidding _leading_ someone to a werewolf. Plenty on restricting what werewolves do, most of which result in Azkaban or death.”

 

Remus’ amber eyes widened, and his lips partly opened. He was watching Severus’ face intently.

 

“I’m not responsible for Cato, but I am responsible for myself. I was seduced by what he had to offer, and…” Severus shook his head. “I let it happen. I wanted it more than anything else. That prospect of a real life beyond the grinding poverty of home and endless mockery in the Wizarding World. With _him_ , with the others, there just seemed to be so much more available to me.”

 

“Were you and he…?”

 

“Only shortly.” Severus didn’t really want to delve into that right now, so he followed quickly with a question he knew the answer to. “Were you and Black?”

 

“No. Sirius never bent that way. Not even slightly. He was practically dripping with girls, the handsome asshole.”

 

Severus bit back a bark of a laugh. “Well, feels good to be honest, after all this time, doesn’t it? What an asshole he was to _you_! He didn’t really deserve your admiration.”

 

“Cato didn’t deserve yours, either. You’re plenty smart and strong on your own.”

 

“Pardon me if I’m a bit weak to a handsome man telling me so,” Severus said dryly. “A weakness I know you happen to share.”

 

Remus danced his light along, causing Harry to wobble to his feet and go chasing it. “I think _everyone_ knew that. One secret I never hid very well.” He paused and then moved the light to draw Harry nearer to them. “I thought that… Well, it always seemed to me, though I never said anything…”

 

Harry stood between both of their lights looking at one and then the other like he didn’t know which to jump at. So he just hopped in place a few times and then sat on the ground.

 

“Spit it out, Mooney.”

 

“I’d thought you had some feelings for Lily.”

 

Severus snapped his head up to glare at Remus.

 

“Don’t look at me like that. You’re allowed. It’s not illegal. You could like them both.” Remus shrugged. “I don’t tend towards girls myself… Or I never have, even if I can appreciate beauty and get along with girls well enough. It’s just not the same. It was just a thought, though.”

 

“How did old Lyall like that?”

 

“I doubt he would’ve liked it much better than the lycanthropy, but I never felt I could really tell him about it. I was already such a bloody burden.” Remus tucked his wand away and picked up Harry. “Literally, most of the time.”

 

“God, Remus, that’s a terribly grim joke!” Severus tried not to laugh this time, but he couldn’t himself. Remus told the most dreadful jokes in the world.

 

Remus hummed and smiled as he rubbed Harry’s back. The boy was getting sleepy. “How did Snape senior feel about Cato?”

 

“My father never liked anything. Or anyone.” Severus snorted. “Least of all, me.”

 

“Well, we’ll let Harry like who he pleases.”

 

“With our luck, he’ll end up straight as an arrow.” Severus petted Harry’s hair.

 

“If that’s the worst fate coming to him, I’ll take it.”

 

***

 

Severus left Remus at the boathouse with Harry and reams of parchment where Remus had begun scrawling out practice lines of runes. And he left gladly. That conversation had been the most intense and open that he’d ever had with the man, before or after the Shrieking Shack. He’d realized after he’d collected the Polyjuice from the basement that both of them had outed themselves, and both had exchanged offerings of forgiveness, in a way.

 

He didn’t think that Cato had anything to do with Remus’ mother, but he dearly hoped Cato’s father hadn’t either. Cato Mulciber Sr. had been one of the first to join Voldemort, and he _would have_ been out in action during the time that the murder had happened. Perhaps Severus might be in a way one day to find out what exactly had occurred at the house when they’d come for Hope Lupin.

 

Today, however, he had a more pressing task. Locate and purchase the items they needed, and not get caught. Luckily for him, Meklit’s supplies of Polyjuice were sorted carefully, with descriptions of the person who she’d used a sample from on each one. Most of them were men, which spoke to how she preferred to travel when incognito. She’d mentioned this to Severus once, a dark finger curled like a censorious claw at him:

 

“What you daft crop of idiots freshly harvested from Hogwarts do not realize is that you step into the world with more power than most. Power over death? No such thing. Power over the living? Well, just look at the bloody Ministry and who’s pulling the strings _there_.”

 

He hadn’t paid much attention to that. He had been there to learn more about the potions Slughorn wouldn’t teach them, not that Severus ever found the man to be much of an effective instructor. His entire pedagogical process seemed to be giving them the books, telling them to brew, issuing a note or two, and then letting the cream rise to the top. Having done that, he might pair his best students with his worst, to see if they could bring the latter up a bit.

 

It had been Severus’ first opportunity to get to know Remus. Early on first-year, Severus had found himself sitting beside the boy against his will. Remus had been sleepy, no doubt from coming back from the full moon, but his eyes were alive and twinkling as Severus lectured him on everything he was doing wrong.

 

Severus had set Remus to the menial task of chopping their ingredients and taken on the mixing himself. But then he’d found himself watching Remus as he chopped, and wondering what color exactly one would call Remus’ hair. Honey? Fawn? Light brown seemed like such a poor descriptor. His eyes were like a warm amber…

 

They’d ruined the potion.

 

Severus pushed those thoughts aside and drank a potion that described a rather average-sounding fellow. He did spare a moment to take a glance in the mirror, and sure enough, he was a bit shorter than Severus, his cheek ruddy, and his hair a muddy brown. The man was boring looking. Probably a Muggle from somewhere, knowing Meklit. Someone who had never been seen in the Wizarding World before, and wouldn’t be noticed elsewhere, either.

 

With a pop, Severus disapparated.

 

He appeared in front of Bergamot’s Best Books, a shop in the Edgewise District in Glasgow. He’d skipped the entrance to the market, but he had his bearings. Most wizards based in Britain spent their time in Diagon Alley, but Edgewise was good enough for his purposes, and Bergamot’s had a greater range than the textbook-heavy Flourish and Botts. They also always kept back issues of Daily Prophets on hand, which was Severus’ primary object here.

 

He walked into the shop, giving a cursory look around, and headed to the wall of papers. A witch there peered up from her own paper and gave him a nod.

 

“Good afternoon,” Severus said. His alter had a higher voice than his own. It wasn’t girlish at all, but it sounded strange to his ears. This man was built better to be friendly to strangers. Thankfully, the witch didn’t seem to feel chatty.

 

Severus thumbed through the past week, skimming over the headlines for Harry’s name, or The Boy Who Lived. Nothing. Nothing in Remus’ name, either. He thought he might have to go further back, until he spotted the words: “Ministry Expands Search for Snape.”

 

Oh, bollocks. Of course, this would all be pinned on him. His fears that Dumbledore would suspect Remus had been unfounded.

 

The article, however, did not read as a tale of abduction and subsequent hunt for the perpetrator.

 

_Ministry agents have expanded their search for Severus Snape, who disappeared a month ago following his support of Albus Dumbledore during the Death Eater Trials. While the Ministry still has no suspects, they believe He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s remaining followers objected to Snape’s espionage work for Dumbledore, and seeing him as a traitor, took him from his home in early November. There were minor signs of struggle and bloodstains in the bathroom. The front door was locked from the inside at the time the Ministry agents came to investigate._

_On Monday, the Ministry found a location where Snape may have been held, a shack in the woods of Northern Ireland, which was a hideout of members of the Order of the Phoenix as they fought the forces of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Aurors determined that there was an altercation there, and the Fiendfyre Curse had been cast. Snape’s blood was found on the scene, as well as the right arm of Duilius Hunter, who has been associated with Death Eater activity, but not been caught. It is believed that Snape is still alive, whereabouts unknown._

 

Severus stopped reading. The rest of the article detailed the efforts the Ministry was putting into the search for him, and offered a quote from the Minister of Magic on how disappointing it was to have people continuing to disappear after You Know Who’s defeat, but assured the people that they were putting every effort into finding Severus. It was very, very strange.

 

Did they not know that Harry had been taken? Surely, Dumbledore had someone watching the Dursleys. Someone would have told him by now. And Remus was gone. Did Dumbledore assume that Remus had simply slipped away unnoticed, or worse, succeeded in putting himself down?

 

“Awful, isn’t it?” the witch said with a tut. “That boy puts himself on the line to help bring down You Know Who, and this is what he gets for it. It’s an unfair world.”

 

“He’s hardly a child,” Severus objected. “Or _was_. I can’t imagine Death Eaters would keep a traitor alive for long.”

 

“He’s barely in his twenties!” The witch chuckled and shook her head.

 

“That’s old enough to know better. I’m sure he’ll turn up eventually. Especially since they seem to have found the last hiding spot.”

 

That in itself wasn’t particularly encouraging. The Ministry had found them. Interpreted the events there entirely wrong at that. But they were on the trail.

 

Meklit’s place might be the only truly safe spot on their current list of possible hiding places. Many of the others did have some association with them, and Remus had said the shack itself should have been hard to find. Someone had known where it was.

 

Or had told. Severus worried his lip between his teeth and folded up the paper. He hadn’t intended to tell Remus he’d visited stores in the Wizarding World at all, but he needed the man’s knowledge of Dumbledore and his logic to sort out what was happening, and what they might truly know. He would show Remus the paper when he returned.

 

Moving about his business, Severus began looking through the book collections. He checked his watched several times as he searched, since he had the tendency to lose track of himself in the library. When he came to the section on magics of the mind, he already had a few books in hand along with his paper. The titles in this section were vague and less than helpful. _Mental Magics: Finding Your Inner Eye_ (useless), _Magics of the Mental_ (he picked this one up, but it was more about protecting oneself from crazed wizards), _Minding the Mind_ (which might’ve been interesting, if he didn’t already know Occulmency), among a smattering of other texts that actually ranged from divination to proper focus for other disciplines, but nothing really dealing in the after effects of magic or loss _on_ the mind. He would have to look in the Muggle shops. He knew he’d read an article on this _somewhere_ before.

 

“Can I help you?”

 

Severus turned. It was Billy Bergamot Jr., the youngest Bergamot in charge of the shop at a sprightly 47.

 

“I doubt it. I’m wondering if any research on this actually exists.”

 

“I’d be delighted to try!” Billy said cheerfully.

 

Severus shifted the burden in his arms. “I’m looking for something to help a friend of mine. He lost his entire family in the war, and he’s gone a bit off. Can still function most of the time, can still do magic, and he’s still smart as a whip, but he keeps reliving what’s happened. He dreams it. It _hounds_ him. At times, he’ll be so on alert that he can’t settle, at times go quiet and just stare for hours.”

 

“Oh.” Billy looked stricken. “I’m sorry to hear that. They’re gonna have to write more books on that kind of thing in the years to come. Who knows how all of us will be dealing with the after effects of this war in a year or two. It’s not even been that long the death of You Know Who. But, let me take you over to our section on healing magics. Maybe we’ll have something.”

 

Severus followed him and checked his watch. Twenty minutes to go before he’d need another dose of Polyjuice.

 

“Here’s a book on common draughts used to cheer up the depressed and dispel anxiety.” Billy pointed. “Another on common herbs for mental effects-“

 

“Yes, but these are all meant to improve short-lived issues. Shocks, concerns. When someone’s had an immediate fright. Not when someone’s watched a man’s face melt half off and can’t stop seeing it.”

 

Billy’s eyes widened.

 

“I apologize. His condition is a mystery to me, but I know my herbology and potions well enough to understand I can’t just brew up a single potion and fix him.”

 

“Maybe…” Billy held up a finger and scuttled down the aisles quickly. He stopped nearby a dusty section, pulled out a book, and scuttled back. “Here. This sounds the most like what you’re describing. It’s not really a how-to on spells and fixes, but it might get at some understanding of what he might need.”

 

Severus read the cover: _Spell-Shock: Post-Grindelwald Wizards in a War Weary World_ by Sherman Grimm, Xander Cobb, and Aloysius Pratt.

 

“Spell-Shock?” Severus said dubiously.

 

“Yes. Got the terms from Muggles, I think. The authors give a history of a mysterious curse on wizards that’s shown up after several major historical battles, and they do some comparison to what happened with the soldiers in the Muggle world after their last intercontinental row. I wasn’t sure the ailment was a real thing, to be honest, when I read it myself, but what your friend is dealing with… It sounds the same as the symptoms they describe.” Billy spread his hands. “I’m afraid I don’t have much else on the subject.”

 

“This will do. If nothing else, I think the title might amuse him.”

 

Billy smiled. “Got to keep your sense of humor in times like these, eh?  Shall I ring you up?”

 

***

 

After visiting a herbologist’s shop, Severus was finished his shopping in Edgewise. He took a short break with a cup of coffee he bought off a blue-haired witch and sat at a table by her cart to crack open _Spell-Shock_. After skimming through the opening, he was certain that the authors were speaking of the same problem that Remus suffered from, but he was also certain that their aims in this text would be more exploratory than prescriptive.

 

He read quickly, perusing the opening to each chapter with a critical eye. Even if the authors had no idea what to do about this illness, or “curse” as they kept referring to it, Severus might be able to suss out a potential solution.

 

Then, as he began, “Contagion of Shock: From Fathers to Progeny” (as all the chapters tended to assume Spell-Shock was a disorder exclusive to men), Severus found the muscles of his back tensing and his chest constricting.

 

 _Many of the wives and friends of the wizards we interviewed suggested behavioral changes in their men beyond the day-to-day disturbances we have covered thus far,_ the authors said in a curious tone. _However, most alarming result of this curse is how it alters the children. Through contact with the disturbances of their fathers, children begin to change in due time as well. Some may become withdrawn and morose. Others will be prone to unwarranted aggression and surly with their parents. Often, they will have trouble trusting and sharing with adults, even when they are told that the adults want the best for them. Our interviews with several of the children revealed a tendency to obfuscate in response to our questions about their feelings. One child, we will call him Cyril, threw a fit during our interview, and once he’d settled, admitted that he couldn’t always control his reactions._

_“Even when I don’t want to, I ruin everything,” he said. “I try very hard to get along with the other children and have a good attitude. But even with the ones I like, I can’t help but say things that make them hate me.”_

Severus lifted his cup to his lips, but found he couldn’t swallow.

 

_Sadly, for some of these children, the curse manifests physically, with spontaneously occurring bruises, even broken bones._

“ _Spontaneously_ occurring broken bones, my _ass_ ,” Severus spat. He snapped the book shut, stood at once, and disapparated.

 

He was in a foul mood as he picked up the rest of the supplies in a Muggle market that he’d selected before leaving the boathouse that morning. The thought that these men, Grimm, Cobb, and Pratt, had taken the time to explore one mental disturbance and then utterly written off every sign they should have been able to understand… They had _ignored_ what these children couldn’t say. Didn’t even have the words to say! They had been right there, and they had taken notes and made speculations, but _never_ stepped in on the children’s behalf!

 

Tobias Snape had fought in the war they were drawing their Muggle sample from. Severus had found that out one day, listening from the top of the stairs as his parents shouted. Tobias had refused the company of neighbors and family alike, as the authors outlined in the chapter, “A Wizard Alone.” He worked at the mill, spent time at the pub, and came home… and absolutely nothing else. He’d done it to the point that Severus and his mother were completely cut off from her family. Not that the Princes had been approving of their marriage or Severus’ existence (as most of them just referred to him as the Halfblood), but Eileen’s Aunt Adeline had still sent her letters, for a time. Tobias had also drunk himself silly, like they spoke of in their chapter, “Not the Wizard He Once Was.” He’d shift in mood, from a moment of calm to severe agitation. He jumped, he lashed out, he threw things.

 

And Severus’ bruises and broken bones as child were nothing spontaneous. His mother had mended him up and not spoken another word about the things his father did to him, let alone the things that man had done to her.

 

When she’d died, fourth-year, Severus came home to a funeral in which he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that something _that man_ had done had caused it. They’d said she’d fallen down the stairs. Severus was convinced that his father, soaked in gin, had struck her at the top of the staircase. And no one said anything about that, either, even when Severus had asked.

 

Severus found himself back at the boathouse, carrying his bags and utterly mute with rage. He might well choke on his heart.

 

He remained still for a moment. He had to piece himself together before going back up to Remus. And he wouldn’t be showing him that book. Especially not that chapter. He didn’t delude himself into thinking that he knew Remus as intimately as his friends had, but the thought that he might harm Harry due to his own illness already plagued Remus. And to prevent it, he allowed Severus to lock him in a small, dank, warded room where he knew the wolf would cut him to ribbons.

 

Remus wouldn’t be able to abide by the idea that the damage done to him by the war could also be a danger to Harry.

 

Severus left the bags at the top of the staircase above the Ash and descended to the study with _Spell-Shock_ in hand. Trailing his fingers over Meklit’s books, he found an old one on ancient Sumerian blood magic, wiped the pages with his wand, and folded _Spell-Shock_ inside, causing the cover and pages to blend into the now blank book.

 

Then, he returned to the boathouse.

 

He felt a stab of panic when he reached the top of the stairs. No one was there. The blankets were folded over the sofa, Harry’s bed was made up, their bags sitting innocently on top of the trunk, and there were rolls of parchment folded in the corner beside the chair where Severus did his reading. The Scope sat, inert, by the dragon lamp.

 

Other than that, nothing and no one.

 

Severus dropped the bags and darted to the balcony to get a better look. They might be outside. But as soon as he walked through the arching frame of the bed area, Remus and Harry came into view and Severus stopped short, feeling impotent and stupid.

 

“What the fuck are you thinking?” Severus snapped.

 

Remus placed his hands over Harry’s ears and raised his brows. “I assume this vision of mediocrity before me is in fact Severus Snape. You _are_ wearing his shirt and my father’s coat.”

 

Severus looked down, opened his mouth, and made a growl of irritation in his throat. “The potion will wear off in a few more minutes.”

 

“The shirt looks better on you than on this fellow,” Remus said pleasantly.

 

Severus shot him a glare and went back to unpack his bags. Remus and Harry disappeared once again, and Severus wondered how Remus had created that effect. A very easy way to avoid anyone while Severus was out.

 

A bit of a shimmer ran through the archway and then whatever spell Remus had used faded.

 

“Did you find what you needed?”

 

“Yes,” Severus said irritably. “Well, not all of what I was looking for. The herbs, yes, and fresh meat. I found nothing particularly of use for your problems. I see a gap in the market on that account.”

 

“I’m not really surprised. But I was fine on my own here with Harry,” Remus promised.

 

“Could you clean that disaster up? Harry’s going to get himself tangled up in the parchment.”

 

Remus moved back to the area with their makeshift beds and started vanishing the runes he’d been practicing.

 

“What is it exactly that we have to do to keep those things in the lake from coming up to eat us?”

 

“They won’t come out of the water. But they can make our existence uncomfortable-“

 

“Then I would like this to be taken care of as soon as possible. The last thing we need is another impromptu moving day, thank you.”

 

Remus kept his eyes on Severus. He could feel those eyes on the back of his neck. Severus finished putting the supplies in the cupboard, set the meat onto a shelf, and placed a chilling charm on it. He could hear the parchment being rolled into a tight ream and took the bag from Bergamot’s over to his chair.

 

“I thought you were just going to a Muggle market,” Remus said as Severus pulled out the copy of The Daily Prophet.

 

“I was careful, of _course_.”

 

Remus’ lips stretched into a thin line and then curved up slightly, as the rest of his face went blank. “I am certain you were.”

 

“It may interest you to know that having duped the Dark Lord, I can very well pass among a pack of strangers as someone who doesn’t even look like me.” Severus slammed one of the books onto the table next to his chair.

 

“Undoubtedly.” Remus’ voice was beginning to lose cheer, but he would not stop with that infuriating smiling.

 

“Excellent.” Severus looked down at the paper, remembering that he had wanted to pick Remus’ brain on the topic.

 

“I can ready the offering to the Undine. If you can manage to watch Harry for a few minutes without breaking anything.”

 

Severus narrowed his eyes and stormed up to Remus. “I will do just fine! At least you can stop worrying for a moment that this child is in the care of an _insane_ werewolf.”

 

Remus crossed his arms and lifted his chin as he studied Severus.

 

“ _What_?!”

 

“Why are you so angry with me?” Remus asked. “Is it from what we talked about before? I never meant to upset you-“

 

“Just stop!” Severus swept around and headed for the balcony.

Remus stayed still, but his voice carried as he spoke again: “What did I _do_? Sev, please, just tell me.”

 

_A large hand slammed down onto the kitchen table, causing Eileen to jump back in fear._

_“Tobias, please. What did I do?”_

Severus went to the railing on the balcony and gripped it as he leaned forward.

 

“Nothing,” he managed after it had been quite for some time. “Absolutely nothing.”

 

“Would you care for some help?”

 

“I would prefer you just stay where you are.” Severus breathed in and out slowly. Then, “Do you drink?”

 

“I- No. Never.”

 

Severus looked over his shoulder and pursed his lips.

 

“Well, I’ll admit to having a butterbeer or two during my time at Hogwarts, but in general, I don’t.” Remus was now sitting on the far end of the sofa, his arms still folded over his chest. “Too easy to get into the habit of self-medicating. A lot of wolves do, you know.”

 

 _Admit it. He’ll never be your father with Harry,_ Severus thought. _**You’re** the one who needs to be careful not to pass on the curse._

 

“If you need a drink, I’m doing well enough to keep an eye out tonight,” Remus offered.

 

“I think I ought to follow your example, actually.”

 

“Severus, can you tell me what happened?” Remus leaned over and took Harry’s hand as the boy stood up.

 

“Not now.”

 

“Are we in trouble? I don’t feel- The Scope isn’t going off.”

 

“No, we’re… There are things I need to tell you. That’s why I went to Bergamot’s. Research, and back issues of The Daily Prophet.” He gestured to the table.

 

Remus drew in a breath and rose to get the paper. Severus looked back out at the lake and waited as Remus read it.

 

“Interesting,” he murmured.

 

“Right? Amazing they’re looking for me in the U.K. at all. Brilliant detectives, the lot of them.”

 

“Not what I was thinking. I was thinking...” Remus set the paper down. “Would you like some tea?”

 

“No.”

 

“Are you sure? I can slip in some of whatever you’ve been dosing _me_ with.”

 

Severus opened his mouth and looked to see a smirking werewolf. “That is meant for pain and inflammation. Not an incurably acrimonious personality.”

 

“So, Calming Draught it is, then?” Remus teased lightly.

 

A sharp insult nearly launched off Severus’ tongue. Barely managing to hold it back, he nodded slightly. “The very top of the cupboard. It’s labeled. It won’t hurt it to blend in with the tea.”

 

Sounds of Remus puttering about in the kitchen. Harry babbling on his own. Remus issuing a soothing noise, and then a gentle humming. The kettle blew. Water poured. Then Remus’ soft steps came toward Severus.

 

“Good to see you yourself again.” Remus offered Severus the cup.

 

“Didn’t even notice,” Severus admitted. He looked down at himself, noticing the way the clothes hung looser on him than they had his alter.

 

Harry was next to him now, holding onto his pant leg.

 

“Drink,” Remus encouraged firmly.

 

Severus drank. The tension loosened out of his shoulders almost immediately. He seeped into one of the folding chairs that had been sitting out there and took one of Harry’s hands.

 

“There we are. I’ll take care of the Undine, and then get dinner ready for us all, hm?” Remus headed back to the other side off the house after touching Severus’ shoulder gently.

 

Severus said nothing as stared out at the lake and then touched the spot where Remus’ hand had been. Harry was trying to crawl up, so Severus knocked back the tea and set the cup aside to lift Harry into his lap. He conjured a ball and tossed it into Harry’s hands. It split into locking rings, and Harry held it up curiously, smooshing the rings together and then pulling them apart again.

 

Harry made a squeal and jerked at the rings again. Severus knew he understood much more than he said, most of the time. He could intuit when Severus and Remus were having a fight. He knew when Remus wasn’t well physically, or when he was having some kind of episode. There weren’t many words he could say, but he was getting close to managing “Mooney.”

 

“At least you’ve not taken to calling either of us ‘mummy,’ though I bet if you do, it’ll be Remus. Maybe we can work on that together, hm?”

  
Harry looked up at him. His hair fell into his eyes, hiding the scar on his forehead. Severus brushed Harry’s bangs back.

 

“We need to trim that up for you,” Severus murmured. “Harry, I honestly don’t know if you’ve fallen in with the worst set of guardians that could’ve been available. I thought otherwise, at the beginning, you know. What do you think, eh?

 

Harry reached over and grabbed Severus’ collar.

 

“Fascinating.” Severus smiled slightly. “I’ll be certain to take your thoughts into account.”

 

“Seb!” Harry declared.

 

Severus’ eyes widened. “What did you say?”

 

Harry bit his lip and looked at the toy in his hand. He hit it against Severus’ chest, and then tossed it onto the floor with a laugh.

 

“Did you just say ‘Sev’?” Severus reached over to lift Harry’s chin.

 

“Hi, Seb!”

 

Harry flung himself forward, and Severus accepted the boy into his arms in a daze.


	9. Holiday Memories and a Bit Too Much Cinnamon

Remus couldn’t help but notice how moody Severus had been since he’d returned from his little trip out into the world. There were good days and bad. Good when he got to spend time with Harry. So good in fact that Remus began inviting Severus to help him put Harry to bed. It helped immeasurably, and soon it was part of their ritual. Severus would tell Harry a story while Remus held him, and then Remus would sing to him while Severus rubbed the boy’s belly or petted his hair.

 

Severus had even stopped mocking Remus’ singing skills. Mostly.

 

When it was bad, though, Remus tried to stay out of his way until Severus had sorted it on his own. Harry hated to hear them argue, and when Severus was in a bad mood, he loved to pick a fight. Remus was fairly sure that Harry associated the arguing with whatever had happened between his parents and Voldemort the night of their deaths, so he would spare the boy that as much as possible.

 

Of course, Remus was never much one to rise to the bait of an argument in any case, and his calm veneer seemed to only make Severus angrier when he wanted to fight.

 

The month was beginning to draw to a close. Remus could feel the early pulling of the moon on his bones, though it didn’t quite hurt yet, and it was getting properly cold. It would be Christmas soon, and it seemed as though they would be spending it here.

 

It was Severus’ turn to take Harry out on a walk. Although sometimes the “turns” didn’t matter and they would take him out together, Remus stayed behind today. He had work to do, layering runes into their parchment, placing warming charms on the floors, and a few other things he planned on finishing up before Severus and Harry returned.

 

Luckily the parchments were nearly done. It had taken more time than Severus had expected to figure out how James and Sirius had put the ingredients together for the wash.  This had annoyed Severus quite a bit. But Remus wasn’t exactly reinventing the quill here and had them penned, spelled, and out to dry within thirty minutes.

 

Then, he put some effort into making their little home a bit more Christmasy. Baubles on the Ash tree outside (and if Remus wasn’t mistaken, the tree seemed to enjoy being dressed up), as well as some glowing garland strings in the house.

 

Finally, he sat on the floor, cross-legged, trying to construct Christmas presents. He had no money. He never did. While his family had managed to put their assets into a sturdy home out of the way of prying eyes, his parents had only been able to eek out a modest living between the two of them. Especially after the money they’d sunk into potential cures.

 

There was no cure. No healing without some sort of scar. And no one would be coming back.

 

Remus’ hands went limp with the sharp knife and stone in his hand. What had Lily planned for Harry’s second Christmas? What songs would she have sung him? What would James have given to his son?

 

For some time, Remus lost himself in imaginings of what Lily and James would have done with their son the first Christmas after the war. How Sirius and Peter would have come over bearing gifts, and Sirius and James would’ve told the worst jokes they could think of around the fire, with Lily cringing and wrinkling her nose from across the room, where she’d be sitting with Alice and Posey.

 

Almost without meaning to, he’d absented himself from their happy holiday gathering, intimate and imaginary as it was. He had missed James and Lily’s wedding, due to his position in Greyback’s camp at the time. No one had known where he’d disappeared to (though Lily had suspected). Then, shortly after he’d returned, the conflict had grown so intense that he was off again on other business for the Order. There was no choice about it. Voldemort’s supporters were spreading their influence, and with some members of the Order having to go into hiding, they needed as many warm bodies on the front lines as possible.

 

If those bodies were also well-versed in curses and defenses, all the better.

 

Remus could hardly guess what his return might have been like. Would Lily have leapt up and wrapped him up tightly in her arms? Would James have let out a loud whoop and come running? Or would they have stood back from this bloodied, war-torn creature at their doorstop? And Sirius, his wand raised distrustfully?

  
That was unfair. Lily would probably pull him to her forcefully and press a kiss to the scar over his nose. James would natter on about how sexy scars were, and how it was high time Remus got him a boyfriend. And Sirius…

 

Remus’ heart sped up at the thought of Sirius. That was complicated, even imagining. How could he wish for a warm embrace from Sirius, after what the man had done? How could he desire to have his friend back, let alone hope for more than that, when Sirius was the reason Remus had no one to come home to?

 

“This is why you just _don’t_ think about it,” Remus instructed sternly. Just in time, he heard the creak of the stairs, and he hid his work away and grabbed one of the books Severus had by the lamp.

 

“This is festive,” Severus remarked dryly, looking over the strings of light and patterned balls hanging from the walls. He set Harry down and let the boy marvel at the decorations. “So why do you look so grim?”

 

Remus closed the book in his lap. “Oh, it’s… It’s nothing.”

 

Severus didn’t look at all convinced.

 

“I was thinking about what Harry’s Christmas would have been like with James and Lily, and then… I started thinking about being there with them.” Remus shook his head. “I should know better.”

 

“We’re allowed to grieve them.” Severus lifted his wand and added a few moving ornaments: butterflies fluttering about, a little train zipping around the room, and a pair of tiny does, cantering around together. “Well, _you_ can grieve James.”

 

“Hm.” Remus watched Harry chase after a butterfly. “Then, we both grieve Lily? I suppose I could use the help, since I’m also thinking about Alice, Frank, Peter, and Posey.”

 

“I did hear what happened to the Longbottoms at the trial. Awful.” Severus sat in a chair near to Remus.

 

Remus swallowed and closed his eyes. It felt a little like the world was spinning swiftly around him, at times. A moment later, strong, calloused fingers took his hand. He looked up at Severus curiously.

 

“Lily would be happy, just to know that Harry is happy. He is, you know. It mystifies me that I can manage, even with a good deal of help from you, to make a child happy,” Severus said.

 

“I couldn’t do it on my own either. The longer we do this, the more obvious it is to me.” Remus shook his head. “Dumbledore was right about that.”

 

“Trust me when I say I would know a bad parent when I saw one,” Severus said irritably. “You’re not a deficient parent. You’re simply ill.”

 

“Not a distinction the Ministry makes, unfortunately.”

 

“Oh, who gives a damn what those Ministry twats think,” Severus said.

 

Remus laughed quite involuntarily. “Tell us what you really think!”

 

“I’m serious. They’re the same lot that let Voldemort recruit for _years_. The same lot that has been passing laws that make not-humans want to join him because it seems like the better option.” Severus gestured forcefully in front of him. “They’re the same bloody pack of tossers who legislate people’s lives down to their lavatory habits, but then don’t spend a single iota of energy toward protecting the children of the Wizarding World.”

 

Remus raked his eyes over Severus. He was missing something here. He knew it. He had been all along, but Severus was like Remus in his most obstinate moments: Closed off. Secretive. Sensitive. Though Severus would never admit that last one and did everything in his power to hide it.

 

He squeezed Severus’ hand. “I was thinking that Lily would want one of those trees, you know the ones that are still alive, and they’re charmed to dance? She always liked those.” He sighed and watched one little doe hopping after a butterfly. “And pie. Oh, yes, Lily was quite good at baking. Less good at actually making dinner, oddly enough. Good pie, though. She had an amazing apple and blackberry, banoffee, Yorkshire curd, and these little mince tarts she would cut out in different shapes.”

 

“What a waste,” Severus drawled. “I could’ve lived to see James Potter get truly and gloriously _fat_.”

 

“Bitter bitter,” Remus scolded. “I suppose I’ll have to learn to bake a few things. One of us ought to.”

 

“Given your capacity with a potion, I’m not going to trust you with a _pie_. Especially having set one of our houses on fire already.”  


Remus grinned. “Sorry about that.”

 

“Come to think of it, though, what a privilege it would be, wouldn’t it?” Severus’ voice softened. “To be _able_ to get that settled and soft. I think I just wished a life of contentment on one of my worst enemies.”

 

Remus crossed his legs at the knee. “Maybe we’ve gotten a bit too settled and soft here.”

 

“Given you spent the morning spelling us up a couple of parchments for one of the many, many contingency plans we’ve been working on, I’m not inclined to agree with you yet.” Severus’ eyes were following Harry. His lips curved slightly and he covered them with the tips of his fingers. “Lily did quite like those trees, didn’t she? I remember back at Hogwarts, one year she convinced her parents to let her stay over the winter holiday… Third year?”

 

“All three of us were there, that year. It seemed like practically the whole school had vacated.”

 

“It was always like that at Christmas. You usually went home, too, but I always stayed.” His lips twitched. “There was a whole row of those dancing trees, just wiggling away in the Great Hall.” Severus’ eyes lit up with the memory. “She could _not_ stop laughing.”

 

“They’re so cuuuute,” Remus mimicked her voice.

 

Severus covered his mouth. “She wasn’t too keen when you kept repeating that.”

 

“Or when _you_ did. We’re lucky she didn’t end us.”

 

“That really could’ve been it, you know. Smitten out of existence by one Lily Evans.”

 

Remus propped his elbow on the side of the chair and rested his cheek against his fist. “Your long-suffering friend.”

 

“Indeed. Now _you’ve_ got to put up with me.”

 

“Given you’ve saved my life at least twice now that I know of, I suppose I’ll have to grin and bear it. Besides, you’re not all that unbearable to begin with, you know.”

 

“Liar.”

 

“You’ve a good sense of humor. It’s enough for me.” Remus smoothed his palm over his book. “Look for a man who can make you laugh. That’s what Lily’s mum always told ‘er.”

 

“I don’t think I made her laugh all _that_ often. Not intentionally, anyway.” Severus rose and went to pick up Harry. “Maybe I’ll have better luck with this one.”

 

“You will.” Remus joined them in the middle of the room as the lights of their Christmas decorations pranced around them. “You’re better with him than you think.”

 

“I hope you’d be honest with me on that account.” Severus sucked in his cheeks as his brows screwed together thoughtfully. “I’m afraid I’ll ruin him. I’ve never been good at people.”

 

“There’s a learning curve.” Remus ran his fingers through Harry’s hair. It was black and wild, just like James’, but still so soft. “He likes you, though. How could he not? You’re the one who saved him from Petunia and that prat she married.”

 

“You did, too.”

 

“I did nothing of the sort. Dumbledore told me no, and I just gave up.” Remus stroked Harry’s cheek with his thumb and looked up at Severus regretfully. “As much as I wanted to, I would never have done it on my own. You’re a lot braver than you give yourself credit for.”

 

“Just because I initiated the plan doesn’t mean you aren’t equally as culpable. You could’ve stopped me. You didn’t. Could’ve gone running back to Dumbledore. Didn’t do that either. Not even after you found out what I am, and concomitantly, the implication of the things I’ve done.” Severus shifted Harry on his hip. “Not to mention running headlong towards a werewolf who wants you dead.”

 

“I’m a Gryffindor. Boneheaded heroics come with the territory.”

 

“They certainly do.” Severus leaned in to Harry’s ear and whispered, “Choose Slytherin.”

 

“Stop! Don’t bias him!”

 

“Like you won’t. His favorite daddy’s a Gryffindor. He’ll join up just to make you proud.”

 

“Nooo.” Remus bent over and touched Harry’s nose. “I’d be proud no matter where he ended up. I’m _sure_ of it. Gryffindor wasn’t the Hat’s first thought on _me_.”  


“No? Were you headed for Slytherin?”

 

“Hardly. Slytherin would’ve been very dangerous for me during our time in school. Halfblood. Half-human. No, the Hat considered Ravenclaw for me, and Hufflepuff.”

 

Severus shook his head. “Hufflepuff.”

 

“They’re good people,” Remus said. “Probably better than I am. Of all the houses, Hufflepuff produces the fewest dark wizards and criminals in Azkaban.”

 

“You nearly drove yourself to death fighting against Voldemort. How are _you_ not a good person?”

 

Remus raised a brow. “Are you really…. Asking?”

 

Severus clicked his tongue. “We were just children, Remy. All you did was lie to protect yourself. I would’ve done the same a hundred times over. If Sirius Black couldn’t handle your possibly having a friend outside of their little pack, that isn’t your doing.”

 

“I, um…” Remus bit his lip. “I’m very grateful that you’ve forgiven me. But I’m not ready to forgive myself just yet. I’m afraid if I do… I don’t know. I just can’t.”

 

“Fair enough. There are things I’ve done that I’ll never forgive myself for. And things I’ll never forgive. Nothing you’ve done.” Severus put a yawning Harry down into his bed. “I would’ve appreciated a hand when your friends hoisted me up by my ankles, though.”

 

“You’re something else. I’m culpable in this co-parenting crime but not the one against you? Is there a difference?”

 

“As far as I can tell?” Severus sucked in his cheeks. “You weren’t _conscious_ for the crime against me.”

 

Remus opened his mouth, then thought on that for a moment. “Well…”

 

“I’m right,” Severus asserted. His expression dared Remus to argue.

 

 _Not just forgiven, but brazenly ordered to accept it._ Remus smiled.

 

He came over to help Severus put Harry down for a nap.

 

***

 

Christmas morning smelled like cinnamon. Severus hadn’t even been aware that Meklit had kept any around, but apparently Remus had found some in her stores somewhere. He rose from the bed to see a small tree dancing in an old pot next to some oddly shaped packages wrapped in discarded parchment. Harry sat in front of it, watching the tree dance and clapping.

 

“You made a tree,” Severus said as he walked across the room.

 

Remus was pouring some hot chocolate into a pair of mugs. “It won’t last like the ones at Hogwarts, but I found a pot and thought we could have it just for the morning.”

 

He met Severus and offered him a mug.

 

“Why…?”

 

“It’s the 25th of December,” Remus said merrily. “For some of us, that means-“

 

“I know what that means.” Severus didn’t know what to say. It was warm. There was hot chocolate. Harry looked delighted, not that he could guess what those packages were. He was just excited by all the lights and energy.

 

“Just try to enjoy it, Sev. My mum _always_ made us hot chocolate with cinnamon on Christmas morning.” Remus set his own mug by the reading chairs and went to the oven to check on something.

 

“Tell me you’re not baking.” Severus made a noise as Remus pulled a baking sheet out of the oven. “Where in the world did you find the ingredients for cinnamon rolls?”

 

“Flour, sugar, salt? We had all that.” Remus took a bowl and started spoon a creamy, white goo over them. “Do you like with or without glaze? I’ll leave a few without, if this is too sweet for you.”

 

“It’s fine.” Severus sat beside Harry and shook his head. “Your Mooney has gone mental. Sorry to say it. It’s all the cinnamon, I think.”

 

Harry made no comment. He had two fingers in his mouth as he stared up at Remus with wide eyes and sniffed at the sweet aroma filling the air.

 

“Do you not like cinnamon?” Remus asked. “I can probably do another batch of hot chocolate without.”

 

“I’m not opposed to cinnamon. I’m just surprised to wake up to a face full of it.”

 

Severus glanced at the tree, which was slowing down a bit. That was a good thing, actually. A charm that kept it going for hours would’ve been draining for Remus, and he’d already done so much. Severus hated to admit that he worried about Remus getting too tired before the next full moon.

 

Remus sat with them in the floor and offered Severus a plate.

 

“Has Harry eaten?” Severus gave the roll a sniff.

 

“Yes. I felt like I ought to give him a proper breakfast and not _just_ load him up with sugar, even if it is Christmas.” Remus pulled off a bit of his roll and offered it to Harry.

 

Severus almost choked at the expression on Harry’s face as he tasted the sweet pastry. Such unfiltered joy at something so simple. The boy squealed happily. And Remus’ smile was just…

 

Gorgeous.

 

Severus froze, the roll in his hand forgotten as he watched Remus enjoying the pleasure of spoiling a child on Christmas day. Happiness suited him. Even if it was fragile, and would soon turn on them. It had hardly ever occurred to Severus before today that Remus was _attractive_.

 

Well. Maybe that wasn’t entirely true.

 

_“Do you need this one?”_

_Severus looked up to see Remus Lupin, the strange, pale boy from Gryffindor. Lily seemed to like him, but all Severus knew was that he tended to nod off during Potions and had whipped Sirius Black at the first meeting of the Dueling Club with a smile on his face._

_“I was looking for that,” Severus said._

_“I know you were. I heard you talking to Ms. Pince.” Remus sat across from him and a soft flop of brown hair fell into his eyes. “I’m almost done with it, if you want to get our History essay started tonight.”_

_Severus reached out for the book. Remus handed it over and settled at the table across from him. Severus felt his eyes glued to the profile of the boy as he dug in his bag._

_Something about him made Severus’ heart race. It was almost a little difficult to breathe. Why was it so strange to **look** at him?_

_Lily dropped into the seat next to Severus, and he felt his cheeks burning. Sitting between the two of them was going to make his heart burst._

_“Hi, Remy!” Lily chimed._

_“Hi, Lily,” Remus said in his gentle, slightly hoarse voice._

_“Hullo, **everyone** ,” Severus snapped crossly. “Could we please **study** now?”_

“Do they taste alright?” Remus asked.

 

Severus suddenly felt too hot. “Very… good. I’m not used to sweets.”

 

“I was afraid of that. My mum always went overboard on the sugar. I’ve inherited the flaw.”

 

“Harry enjoys it, and I can manage one. Dunno what you plan to do with those others, though.”

 

“Store them and munch on them until I can’t fit into my pants,” Remus replied cheerfully.

 

Severus rolled his eyes. Remus was much more likely to drop weight in the next week than gain. It was probably a good idea to try to fatten him up a bit so he’d come out the other side of the transformation as less like a scarecrow.

 

Remus wiped his hands on a rag and reached over to the modest pile and opened a flat package for Harry. “It’s not done, but I decided to wrap it anyway. I thought we could use some pictures to go along with the stories you tell him. I can finish in the next few days, probably.”

 

“You made us breakfast, and gifts?” Severus took the book.

 

“They’re mostly for Harry. Just a few things I’ve been thinking might help him along. Children use toys to learn, you know.”

 

Severus flipped through the pages. It was one of the blank journals that Meklit had made for keeping notes on her potion-crafting, and the illustrations weren’t too bad. He recognized a few of the scenes from a story Severus had been telling Harry every other night.

 

“You’re the sort who gives _books_ for presents,” Severus accused.

 

“I like books!”

 

“Swot.”

 

Remus took a sip of his hot chocolate, smiling, and opened a few of Harry’s other presents. Severus wasn’t going to say what a waste of time that was, to wrap gifts that you knew the recipient was too young to open. Each of them was small, aside from one that collapsed into a single block with the proper word, but Harry could take out dozens of blocks from it to build things.

 

In fact, the first thing he did was start piling as many blocks as he could in no shape whatsoever.

 

“At least that will travel well,” Severus commented. He set the book into Harry’s small pile of gifts. “Were your parents the sort to give you books and socks for Christmas?”

 

“Well… Yes. Christmas was always about things you needed. But I always liked to read. Even when you can’t get up, you can often read.”

 

Severus realized he must have pulled an awful face at that image because Remus looked chagrined.

 

“It’s just… Reality. You use what you have on hand. You give what’s needed. That’s all. Mum did what she could to make it special. Of course, birthdays were more the highlight around my house.”

 

 _Another year their son **survived**_ , Severus thought. _A real reason to celebrate_.  “My mum was not the type to make cinnamon pastries.”

 

Remus nodded. “Not everyone’s is.”

 

“Christmas at Hogwarts was infinitely better. I’m surprised you stayed there for any of them, though, given the treacly rituals your family participated in.”

 

“My father was out of town at the time, and the moon would’ve come while I was there alone with my mum,” Remus explained, seeming more interested in watching Harry with his blocks.

 

Severus made a noise. “Is there _nothing_ it doesn’t affect?”

 

“Not really.” Remus smirked. “Or they might call it an alternate lifestyle, rather than a curse.” He leaned over and tossed a hand-sized flat package into Severus’ lap. “Yours.”

 

“Mine,” Severus repeated dumbly. “You got _me_ something?”

 

“Made it. But yes.”

 

Severus stared at it.

 

“It won’t bite you, you know.”

 

“I didn’t get you anything.”

 

Remus snorted. “I don’t care about that. I’m warm and surrounded by people. It’s snowing out, too, did you look? This is all _I_ want for Christmas.”

 

Severus touched the package curiously. “You’re as sickly sweet as your pastries.”

 

“Do I have to open your present for you, too?” Remus teased.

 

“Of course, not.” Severus ripped open the edge of the package.

 

It was a rock.

 

A flat, polished rock that fit into his hand and had runes carved along the edge.

 

“I…”

 

Remus scooted closer. “Think about someone when you hold it and run your thumb over the writing at the top as you say their name. It’ll show you what that person is doing right now.”

 

Severus raised a brow at Remus, then said, “Harry.”

 

Remus clicked his tongue. But the stone projected Harry from where he sat holding a block up in the air.

 

“This is… This is very nice, Remus,” Severus managed. Then, “Thank you.”

 

“I wasn’t really sure what else you could use. Well, that I could get my hands on. I settled on something between sentiment and espionage.”

 

“Huh. That suits us both well, doesn’t it?”

 

Remus chuckled.

 

Severus stroked it again and sucked in his cheeks, trying to decide who to peek in on. “Albus Dumbledore.”

 

Remus leaned in. Dumbledore was snoozing in a large bed with an enormous stuffed duvet over him. His toes were peeking out, and they were covered with multicolored socks that separated over each toe.

 

“Well, that strikes fear into my heart,” Severus said.

 

Remus touched Severus’ shoulder as he rose and went to collect the torn bits parchment. Severus moved his hand over the front of the stone, banishing the image.

 

“My mum was the sort for practical gifts, as well. We never had many, but I was likely to get some of my new books for school for my birthday, and some clothing that fit, more or less, around Christmas, even if it wasn’t new. She probably stole it, honestly. She took in neighbors’ laundry, sometimes,” Severus said. He didn’t know why he would share something like that, but it was all he had to give in return, and Remus had offered so much of himself. He was no more than Severus to be naturally inclined toward openness, either, so these bits of himself that he gave to Severus didn’t come easy.

 

Remus’ father had in fact taught him the opposite for his whole life.

 

“I appreciate a woman who can be resourceful.” Remus returned to the floor with another cup of hot chocolate. “Or a man, for that matter.”

 

Severus made note of Remus’ sweet tooth, then. An indulgence for the holiday? Remus rarely showed a preference for any type of food. It would be hard to say most of the time if he even liked the meals Severus prepared.

 

“She gave me a set of Gobstones, once. I think they’d been hers. She wasn’t too happy that I didn’t care about them much after second-year,” Severus added.

 

“You can hardly be blamed for that.” Remus crossed his legs under himself. “Who likes to be squirted in the face?”

 

Severus raised a brow at Remus, whose eyes widened as his mouth dropped open.

 

“Sev! I’m scandalized.”

 

“Be scandalized all you like. You’re the one talking about fluids rushing at your face.” Severus set down the stone and leaned forward. “When exactly did you set about calling me ‘Sev’?”

 

“Do you dislike it? I thought Severus was a bit of a mouthful for a one-year-old.”

 

“He can’t manage Sev, either. He calls me ‘Seb.’ Not quite mastered the ‘V’ sound.”

 

“He’ll get there,” Remus said with certainty. “He’s stopped calling me ‘Moo.’”

 

Severus stifled a laugh. “He’ll go from Mooney to Mummy before you know it.”

 

“That’s good. I was feeling rather clucky.”

 

“Yes. You’re practically _lactating_.”

 

Remus bowed his head and shook in laughter. He waved Severus off, although he looked happier than Severus had ever seen him.

 

“When you finish up your chocolate, would you like to go out for a walk in the snow? I can check our clothes and make certain it’ll be warm enough for Harry,” Severus suggested.

 

“That sounds absolutely lovely.”

 

Severus watched Remus walk out to the balcony and look out over the lake. The morning sun lit on his cheeks, washing him in a pensive glow. Severus took Harry’s hand and slowly rose, his eyes fixed on Remus’ figure. As his heart began to pound, Severus realized how grateful he was that Remus had tagged along on his little kidnapping scheme.


	10. The Isle of Tempus

It was another two moons before the Surveillo-Scope went off again. It wasn’t even light out, and Severus hadn’t even clothed Remus and properly bound up his wounds. The man was still bloody and shivering on the cloak Severus had been using to transport him into their warm little home.

 

It made no difference. With Harry screaming, and the Scope spinning madly as it flashed red _and_ blue, Severus bit back his panic and began sweeping up as many of their scattered belongings as he could. They had gotten comfortable, staying here all this time. They’d settled, and their pursuers had come at the worst possible time.

 

There was a possibility that Severus had missed a few items, but he couldn’t spare a moment to check. If Remus had been well, that would be another matter, having that hellhound at his side to defend them against whoever appeared. But Remus wasn’t and he wouldn’t be, and so Severus scooped up Harry and placed him into Remus’ arms.

 

“Hold onto him, Remus. Hold onto your child tightly,” Severus instructed.

 

Instinctively, Remus’ arms curled around Harry, securing him next to his body and getting blood all over Harry’s clothes. Harry let out a startling new wail, causing Remus’ eyes to pop open.

 

“What? What’s happening? Harry?!”

 

“Hold onto him, Remus,” Severus said again. Now laden down with their bags and grabbing the trunk with one hand, Severus reached out for Remus.

 

Pop!  


Seconds later, the boathouse was gone and the Scope was still. But all around them sheets of freezing rain poured down. The ground was soppy with mud, and very little greenery graced the stark plain to appreciate the rain.

 

“Bloody hell,” Severus grumbled. He dropped their things and lifted his wand up in an attempt to keep the water off of them for a few moments while he dug around in the trunk.

 

Out came a tent, which he pitched quickly with his wand before dragging Remus and Harry, and all of their now wet things, inside.

 

“You warned me that Tempus would have lousy weather this time of year, didn’t you?” Severus said to Remus, although he said nothing back.

 

Severus would have to pull out and dry their clothes before long, but first, he collected Harry from Remus (who held on tightly and even gave a little growl, until Severus leaned in close and whispered, “It’s okay, it’s me” several times). He stripped Harry’s wet clothes off him, and since they were now stained with blood, Severus opened up the trunk once more, found a dry pair of pajamas, and redressed the boy after a quick nappy check. With a flick, he dried Harry’s hair.

 

The tent was quite spacious, although the outside looked like little more than a lean-to that might fit one, maybe two adults. It wasn’t very posh, either. There was a space with a table, and a cot-like bed. Enough room for furniture, if they’d had any. Severus had meant to gather these things slowly, over time, as he had the tent. Time had run out, though.

 

Now that Harry was clean and safe, Severus turned to Remus. By now, his shivering had turned to shuddering, with an accompaniment of teeth chattering. He’d been wounded worse in previous moons, but he was still bleeding more heavily than Severus would like.

 

Despite his gratitude that the Scope remained still, as he tended to Remus, bitterness rose in his throat. It was all too coincidental, wasn’t it? Coming just as the moon had set? The Death Eaters had to have known that Remus would be in a bad way.

 

“Didn’t want to face a real wizard in a fight?” Severus muttered. Thankfully, he’d already had Meklit’s supply of dittany and healing brews up in the house. It would be enough for a while. Once more, Severus went about the cleaning away of blood, the chanting, the leaves on Remus’ skin.

 

“If I ever run into Fenrir Greyback, I’m going to cut that mangy, flea-bitten child predator’s head clean off his worthless shoulders!”

 

Severus had no idea who he was talking to. Harry had given up his cries and was now looking with interest at Remus.

 

“Don’t be perverse, Harry.” Severus fetched Remus some clothing, and then remembered that he’d left the set that Remus had worn down into the basement laying there. Down a shirt and pair of trousers. As Severus buttoned up the loose, soft shirt on Remus, he worried that they’d all be too cold in this tent. Remus would have helped him to warm and ward it, if he’d been conscious.

 

Severus had the night’s work cut out for him.

 

A few hours later, he sat on the floor, lying spent against the bedframe. It was no brighter outside, though it was technically morning, now. Remus had only woken once, with a panicked “Harry?!” on his lips, but Severus had pushed him back, brought Harry over, and Remus had slept peacefully ever since. Harry had even managed to get some sleep now that Remus was near. The pounding of the rain against the tent had a soporific effect on them all.

 

Severus ensured that the blankets were covering Remus well and then leaned next to him. There wasn’t much room in the bed, but he could see Remus’ face clearly enough. Severus pushed back Remus’ hair, letting his fingers linger in the soft, shaggy mane. Something deep in Severus ached to see Remus’ face so drawn, so pale from loss of blood and the pain he’d suffered for the past few days.

After much perseveration on the issue, Severus had determined that the now-fading scars that shot across his nose, brow, and cheek must have come from another wizard. They were too narrow and straight to be a scratch. Someone in the heat of battle had purposefully aimed for Remus’ face. Regardless, rather than detracting from Remus’ features, the scars enhanced them. Or Severus thought so. He suspected Remus might not, if he _ever_ bothered to look in a mirror again.

 

Remus tended to scratch and bite himself elsewhere, arms and legs, mostly, as they were easiest to get to, but occasionally, he’d go after vital organs. Severus patched him up every time, but his distress in seeing Remus so wounded hadn’t faded with each full moon as he’d thought it would. Instead, it seemed as though there were more and more at stake, were Remus not to come out of this next moon alive.

 

“I don’t know how your mother could stand to see someone she loved hurt themselves over and over again,” he murmured.

 

Severus rested his head against Remus’ shoulder and felt exhaustion drawing him down into sleep. His eyes popped open suddenly, and he looked around in. It was just Remus’ hand on his shoulder.

 

“Shaking,” he murmured. “You’re cold. C’mere.”

 

Remus tugged on Severus’ jumper until Severus rose and climbed into the bed with him. He’d planned on warming up there and then rising again to finish setting up their camp, but Remus’ arm pulled him close, until the three of them were ensconced in the small bed: Harry sleeping contentedly on Remus’ chest, and Severus curled up at his side.

 

At first, Severus wanted to protest, but it was too cold and too dreary. Remus was asleep again already. On an impulse, Severus leaned over and pressed a light kiss to Remus’ temple.

 

They’d made it through another moon and another move.

 

***

              

Tempus was a dreary, desperate place. It was frankly amazing that the island was still there in spite of the deleterious storms. Remus had visited there for a few months at nine years old, during the Sunny Season. “Sunny” meant that it only perpetually _drizzled_ , and the sun had come out once. During the Storm Season, which coincided with their unfortunate arrival in February, it rained heavily and the sea surrounding the island crashed and thrashed and created whirlpools that sucked boats down to the watery depths, as well as tides that cut raggedly into the shoreline. Even from their tent, which was quite a ways inland, they could hear the howling of a storm from the coast.

 

It was Unplottable now, for a reason. Back when there had been whole towns to speak of, they had lost folks daily to the sea and the storms. When the storms grew too bad, the people starved. No one could get out to fish, and trade ships couldn’t make it to harbor. Muggles (or Wizards who couldn’t apparate) who found their way here by ship found themselves unable to leave. Lyall Lupin had only brought his family there because of the supposed curse-breaking properties of a plant that could only be found in one of the caverns along the sides of the cliffs, supposing one survived the whirlpool long enough to make it down there and back again.

              

When Remus had woken with Severus and Harry at his side, he had been confused. They weren’t in the bedroom of the boathouse. There was no sun shining in on him, or Harry laughing. Just the incessant pounding of the rain against the tent. He and Severus had discussed several remote locations that had hardly any connection to either of them. They’d even suggested spiriting off to America if it came to it, but Severus hadn’t yet been willing to risk running into the wolf hunters there.

 

Severus looked spent. What a time he must have had, getting themall to safety on his own. Remus knew that he shouldn’t be up yet, and he could still feel his wounds throbbing, but he slipped out of the bed, taking Harry with him. The boy was awake, but had stayed with them and was now blinking up at him owlishly.

 

“Severus took good care of us, didn’t he? Our turn now.” Remus set Harry down and began looking through their things, spiriting out wet clothes and giving them a flick to dry before refolding them. He winced at Harry’s crumpled, blood-stained pajamas. “Did I do that? I’m sorry, Harry.”

 

He remembered, vaguely, holding Harry to his chest, feeling his body alert with the urge to flee or spring into action. The latter hadn’t been possible, and Severus had whispered to him… so gently:

 

_It’s okay. I’m here. I’m **here** , Remy._

 

Remus paused in his work and looked over to Severus. Beyond simply needing his presence to be an adequate caretaker for Harry… Remus was glad to have him there. He looked forward now to hearing his dry voice, his acerbic comments (when not directed at Remus or his friends). It had only been four months since the war had ended, but Remus found that he’d grown incredibly accustomed to having Severus by his side.

 

After setting up the tent, warming the floors, and putting a pot on to boil up some dried lentils, Remus felt himself exhausted. He poked his head outside anyway, to be sure that the wards were holding up. They were fine, but Remus gave them a bit of a reinforcement. It was unlikely that there were enough people left alive on this island country to spot them, but they couldn’t be too careful.

 

Remus returned to Harry, who seemed comfortable enough now to begin exploring their new home. He sat near the boy and watched him for a time (stopping only to check and season the pot). They had some canned vegetables to go with the lentils. It was good that they had kept extra stores in their bags. Fishing would be necessary for protein here, but it would probably be better to watch the tides for a few days beforehand. Even with magic, it would be risky.

 

Harry was getting a flying “broom” spoonful of mashed lentils and squash when Severus stirred and looked up at them with a fearsome scowl.

 

“Good morning. Or afternoon. I honestly can’t tell,” Remus said cheerfully.

 

“What are you doing up?” Severus rubbed his eyes and sat on the bed.

 

He was trying to sound scolding and intimidating, but his voice was still sleepy, and his jumper and trousers were rumpled. Remus just smiled fondly.

 

“I woke. Harry was already awake, so I thought I’d take care of some things.” Remus shook his head. “Sorry I wasn’t able to help you with the move.”

 

“How could you have _possibly_ helped that?” Severus rose and padded over to them, his steps tentative, until he realized that Remus had warmed the floor.

 

“I couldn’t, but that doesn’t mean I regret it any less.” Remus looked to Harry and wiped his mouth.

 

Severus sat in front of them. “You’ll need more sleep.”

 

“I know, Mum. I’ll get back to bed after I finish with him. He was so good today, waiting on his tired old dads for his breakfast.”

 

Severus shook his head. “I ought to have stayed awake and fed him.”

 

“You did fine,” Remus replied, a bit more sternly than he’d intended. Strangely, the effect softened Severus’ expression. “It’s good, though, that Harry’s such a trouper. Aren’t you?” Remus smiled at him. “Sweetheart. He even goes down easy. Most toddlers aren’t so well behaved.”

 

 “That’s easy for you to say,” Severus muttered.

 

Remus frowned. “What do you mean? You don’t think Harry’s well-behaved? I wonder what your standard is.”

 

“I’m not insulting your son.” Severus rolled his eyes Harry does as well as can be expected. “And he does go down easy. When _you’re_ here. When you’re not, he still screams all night.”

 

Remus’ back straightened strictly. “Really? Oh… Harry.”

 

He petted over Harry’s hair. The boy didn’t seem to be unduly stressed now, but it explained his clinging to them and not wandering around their new home.

 

“I dunno why you’re surprised. You warned me that he wouldn’t like seeing a parent disappear, and he doesn’t.” Severus shrugged. “I can distract him. Get him to play a little, and read to him, and comfort him. But eventually, it’s bedtime, and he knows you should be there. You’re not. It’s upsetting.”

 

Remus kissed the back of Harry’s head and frowned.

 

“Nothing we can do about that, though.” Severus reached over and jiggled Harry’s foot, causing him to laugh. “I didn’t know what to expect, co-parenting with a werewolf, but I never thought the full moon would make our lives any _easier_.” He made an irritated noise. “Particularly when we have idiots hounding us directly after.”

 

“Right. Who was it? Death Eaters again?”

 

“No. Well, yes, them, but also the Ministry.”

 

Remus raised his brows. “One, then the other?”

 

“No. At the same time.”

 

“Bloody hell,” Remus murmured.

 

He’d been worried about this. The Daily Prophet article that Severus had brought home had been suspicious. Remus had thought at once that Dumbledore and the Order were trying to keep Harry’s disappearance under wraps while encouraging the Ministry to keep looking for them. This development had broader reaching implications.

 

“It wouldn’t be the first time the Ministry has reported false information to the Prophet.” Remus looked up at the top of their tent. The noise was getting louder, and Remus suspected hail. Staying on Tempus would be an extended exercise in joint pain.

 

“Took a bit of a leap there.” Severus rose and went to the supplies Remus had dug out of the trunk. “You need to eat something. Have you?”

 

“No. Sorry, I was just thinking about what it would mean, Death Eaters _in_ the Ministry.”

 

“I’m not terribly shocked on that account,” Severus drawled.

 

“Maybe _you’re_ not, but my father was a Ministry man.”

 

“Your father dealt with magical creatures. Not the real monsters making the laws.”

 

Remus sucked in his cheeks and tilted his head back to look up at Severus, who was touching his wand to the pot to cool it. He then put on a kettle.

 

“I reckon there’s some truth to that,” Remus said, “but our side had folks in the Ministry, including my father, and while there may have been sympathizers, most people in the Ministry were quite terrified of Voldemort.”

 

“Being afraid of him was no deterrent to joining him. Facilitated it quite well, actually. You’d be surprised at some of the people who switched sides, largely because they were afraid of what would happen to them otherwise.”

 

Remus set Harry down and took his bowl to clean out and set with the few dishes they had. “I find it hard to believe people would completely abandon their principles and join a Pureblood supremacist’s genocidal agenda just because, what? They thought he might kill them? Torture them?”

 

“Or their families.”

 

Remus pressed his lips together. “I suppose I understand that, in a way. But I’d imagine that fear would wouldn’t be a reason to join rather than fight your enemy. My mother’s death only spurned me on.”

 

Severus leaned over the pot and sniffed. “We’re not all Gryffindors with suicidal tendencies, Remus.”

 

“I’m not suicidal anymore,” Remus said in exasperation. He would prefer Severus not joke about that, if he had to bring it up at all. “I was barely so then, it just… It seemed like there was nothing left in the world.”

 

Severus set the pot down and sat, crossing his legs and leaning forward. “Feelings like _that_ -“ He paused and raised his brows at Remus. “They don’t come from nowhere, and they don’t just disappear. I’m not watching your every move, but feelings that destructive leave a mark.”

 

“I’ve plenty of marks,” Remus said flippantly. “And it’s no secret where those feelings came from.”

 

“As you like. It’s just something to consider.” Severus pushed a hand through his hair (stiff from the rain) and left it as he leaned his elbow on his leg. “I’ve been thinking about that sort of thing for a while now, how it all transforms our insides. How the Wizarding World is going to be after all this ugliness and violence. What it’s like when those changes started so early for you there’s no unaffected form of yourself to go back to, even if you wanted to be less broken.”

 

Remus looked at Severus curiously. He was getting at something, and Remus was reasonably sure that he wasn’t talking about lycanthropy. Though he was clearly letting the reference veil his true meaning.

 

“I don’t know the answer to that, Severus. In my case, I suppose… Well, take our trip here. There’s no going back. There’s no one to go back to. Can’t even go back to our old safe houses, once we’ve been found.” Remus stepped over and, as Severus did so often to Remus, relocated Harry in Severus’ arms.

 

He put his hands on his hips and looked down at Severus, who wrapped one arm around Harry. Sometimes Remus forgot that Severus was his own age. He seemed older than Remus most of the time, even though they were from the same year. Now, though, he looked distinctly like the 21-year-old that he was. And he looked a bit lost.

 

“Only way out is ahead of us, Sev.”

 

“Yes,” Severus said gravely. He swallowed. “I would just like to say, though…”

 

He looked down uncertainly. Remus frowned.

 

“Was last night-?“

 

“I mean to say-“

 

They had both spoken at once, and then stopped at once. Remus laughed softly and then gestured to Severus.

 

He flattened his lips and then shrugged. “Simply: You are right. But… Do remember that you’re not all alone anymore.”

 

“I do,” Remus promised.

 

“Good.” Severus patted Harry’s back and let him go to toddle around (the boy had been squirming, now both comfortable and curious) so that he could take the kettle off and pour some tea for them both.

 

“I think I will go rest some more, now that we’re all set up here.”

 

“If we don’t sodding drown.”

 

“Miraculously, the inhabitants of this island—or the survivors, rather—seem to do just fine on that account.” Remus lowered himself onto the bed slowly. “If they- unf- stay away from the coast during storms.”

 

He touched his side. The cut there wasn’t too deep. None of his wounds were, this time, although they had probably been more serious this morning.

 

“Heads above water, lads,” Severus chimed dryly.

 

***

 

Four days later kept them in relative, if waterlogged, safety. They managed meals from their stores and did their best to keep Harry from getting too bored. The boy was toddling a little faster every day, and could make it across the tent’s width by himself without a hand to steady him. Severus had raised a barrier so Harry couldn’t run off on them, but that didn’t keep the child from blundering into piles of their things, or climbing up on the trunk to chase a flying bug hovering around one of their lights.

 

Remus headed out in short bursts to explore what the island was like now, leaving Severus to entertain Harry. He suspected that Remus was doing it on purpose, to acclimate Harry to not seeing him all the time. Severus didn’t think it would be so easy to mitigate the trauma of a small boy. He understood them when they spoke about food or items they were looking for, but they couldn’t just explain to him what was happening to Remus, when he would be fine, and when it would be bad.

 

Though, Remus not being there was at times a relief. Being cooped up in the tent for days, while the rain refused to even lighten, didn’t make Severus any more pleasant. He found himself snapping at Remus quite a lot. Harry would sometimes cry and flail his little limbs, clearly missing the time he used to get outside, and wanting to go with Remus when he left.

 

So Severus took the time away from Remus as a blessing. He read to Harry from the book Remus had finished illustrating, as well as potions recipes and other things from the books they had on hand. He helped Harry build taller and taller constructions with the expanding blocks that Remus had made him. And when Harry grew restless, he took him out, holding his wand over their heads to keep the water off, and let Harry marvel at how the rain came down in sheets and the clouds above them swirled.

 

He explained as much as he could about storms in general, but he didn’t know _why_ Tempus was so beset by storms, so he left that part out. Maybe he could get Remus to take up the story time obligation and explain it to them both later.

 

However, Remus was late returning. Late enough that Harry started to grow sulky and wouldn’t go down for his nap. It had been such a good day, too. Martialing his patience, Severus sat in the bed with Harry, rubbing his back as the boy huffed and tried to come up with some way to please him.

 

“Hold on, then,” he said after a moment. He lifted the boy up and set him back on the bed and then went over to the trunk. Harry hopped off the bed and followed him. “I’m just going to take you back there in a minute. You’re not getting out of your nap.”

 

“Ni, Ni, Moon?” Harry asked.

 

“No, Harry. Not yet. Mooney will be back,” Severus promised. He dug around in the trunk, and then pulled out his Christmas present from Remus, grateful that he’d remembered to bring it along.

 

Harry put two fingers on his mouth and a little frown etched into his forehead the way it did just before he was about to start screaming.

 

Severus reached out for him. “C’mon, then. Let’s check in on your Mooney.”

 

Harry stood there sucking on his fingers. His eyes had lit up at hearing ‘Mooney,’ though. He knew Mooney and he knew Seb. Severus beckoned him forward again and waited for Harry to come over and then drop into his lap.

 

“There we go,” Severus said with approval. He held the scrying stone in front of them both. “This is what your Mooney gave me for Christmas. We just hold it up, and we think of him, and then-“ Severus stroked his fingers over the top to activate it. “-he’ll appear. Hullo, Mooney.”

 

And there he was. Harry gave a surprised squeal when he spotted Remus, who was absolutely drenched and running with his coat over his head. Funny, because he’d gone out with an umbrella, but given the storm, the wind had probably broken it or blown it away.

 

“There he is. Looks like a drowned rat, but he’s fine.”

 

“Moo- _oo-_ on,” Harry cooed. He touched the front of the stone, then leaned forward and huffed.

 

“We can see him, even though he’s not here. Looks like he’s trying to find a place to wait out that wind. You’d think someone so capable with protection spells could deflect a bit of rain,” Severus continued.  

 

Remus scurried through the mud, causing splashes on either side of him.

 

“Mooney’s going to be a mudball by the time he gets home,” Severus muttered.

 

Harry watched with fascination, then clapped his hands and pointed to Remus, looking back at Severus.

 

“See? He’s all right. Not comfortable, granted, but-“

 

Both of them jumped as there was a loud clap of thunder. Remus darted under an outcropping of rock.

 

“Careful,” Severus murmured. But Remus seemed to have it covered. He was already tilting his head upward to examine his shelter and giving the rock a few experimental prods.

 

A few minutes later, he seemed satisfied and, after pocketing his wand, grabbed the hem of his jumper and pulled it up over his head in one swift motion. Severus raised his brows. Remus stretched, his ropey muscles flexing and tensing as his arms rose over his head, and then again as he brought them down to forcefully wring out the jumper with his hands.

 

Involuntarily, Severus shuddered. This was perhaps the first time he’d deliberately seen Remus unclad when he hadn’t been mopping up his wounds. While never having been the most sought-after boy in school, regarding looks or anything else, Remus had somehow transformed into a lithe, and quite attractive, man. Severus knew he ought to stop watching and try to put Harry down, but found himself mesmerized by the moving pattern of scars over his back and torso. Most of them were faded now, just highlights of a rough life, no more than the silver peppering his hair.  

 

Remus was an eclectic collection of imperfections, but it was impossible for Severus to deny any longer that his heart quickened simply by looking at the man.

 

Now, Remus had dried his jumper with his wand, put it back on, and was removing his trousers. There was something lewd about watching this bit, even if Severus had been ignoring him changing a few feet away for months now. Because Remus didn’t realize he was being watched. And because he’d been the one to give Severus this gift that allowed him to spy on Remus so effectively. He’d not used it for any other purpose, other than to check in on Harry, and occasionally watch Dumbledore and Death Eaters to see if he could catch them making any plans against them.

 

“It’s naptime, Harry,” Severus announced.

 

“No,” Harry said. He placed his hand on the image before them.

 

Severus stroked the side of the stone to turn it off.

 

“No!” Harry shouted. And for once, he probably meant it.

 

“He’s still there!” Severus touched the stone again so that Harry could see Remus once more. “See? He’s fine.”

 

When Severus moved to turn it off again, Harry grabbed at his hand. “Nooo…”

 

“Keep it.” Severus put the stone in Harry’s hands and then lifted him up onto his hip. “Watch your Mooney. But you need to be in bed.”

 

Harry just starred at the stone and gigged at Remus. Whatever he was doing, sodden down in the rain and unaware that he was being surveilled, was a hit.

 

“I suppose it’s a testament to your strength that you can attach to anyone as much as you have Remus,” Severus said as he stood by the bed, trying to figure out how to get Harry under the covers while he was distracted. “I mean, look at the two of us. Remus only lets me in because his insides are already in display, and I hardly tell him anything. We’re fairly doomed.”

 

“Moon!” Harry laughed, then looked up at Severus. “Fa’ down.”

 

“When did you learn that one?” Severus set Harry on the bed and peered over his shoulder. “Did he hurt himself?”

 

He hadn’t. He just looked annoyed, sitting in the dirt under his ledge. It was a bit amusing.

 

“He’s all right.” Severus kicked his shoes off and pulled his legs up on the cot. One arm went around Harry, drawing him near. “If he were here, getting you to sleep would be no problem.” Severus sighed. “I know what he’d do to get you down.”

 

Severus placed Harry in his lap, circled his arms around Harry’s little body, and sang half-heartedly, “A cloak you wear…”

 

Harry cocked his head to the side, raising one brow.

 

“Don’t look at me like that. Your mum loved this song. At least I know the whole thing.” Severus cleared his throat and tried again. “A cloak you wear, a deep shade of blue.” He sighed. “Is always there.”

 

Harry sucked in his lower lip, listening and wide-eyed.

 

“I do this for you, you know. I hope one day you appreciate turning me into the kind of man who sings.”

 

***

 

After managing to dry himself out, slipping in the mud, and drying himself out again, Remus disparated back to the tent. The trip had been marginally useful. He’d located a small settlement with enough families that he would have to spend more time determining how trustworthy they’d be. Barring that, Tempus was as it always had been. Dismal and dangerous. Though, it was some comfort that most of the danger here came from the elements and not creatures who might try to eat Harry.

 

As he held his wand up over his head to deflect the rain (if only he’d had the presence of mind to do that quickly enough when he’d lost his umbrella), he heard a low voice singing.

 

“The sun ain't gonna shine anymore! The moon ain't gonna rise in the sky! The tears are always clouding your eyes!”

 

Remus peeked his head inside the tent and immediately forgot to deflect the rain again.

 

“When you're without love… Baby…” Severus held Harry to his chest securely as he sang. “Emptiness is a place you’re in. With nothing to lose, but no more to win.”

 

Remus stepped in, dripping again, and lifted his fingertips to his lips as he watched and listened. As he’d suspected, Severus had a decent voice—not practiced by any means—but decent and pleasant to listen to. Harry seemed to agree. He was looking up at Severus and watching him with that curious but thoughtful expression of his, and he was sucking on his fist.

 

Severus turned around, mid-lyric and jumped to see Remus there. He tensed his jaw and then lifted his chin defiantly.

 

“The moon ain’t gonna rise in the sky,” he sang.

 

“If only!” Remus said. He kicked off his shoes and stood there to watch.

 

“The tears are always clouding your eyes…”

 

Severus turned away from Remus with cheeks beginning to bloom scarlet and continued to sing the chorus a few times. Eventually, he leaned over the cot and put a yawning Harry down.

 

“Want to say goodnight?” Severus whispered.

 

Remus held up a hand and shook his head. Severus had this covered, clearly.

 

When he had Harry tucked in, Severus came over to the trunk, where Remus was changing out of his muddy clothes.

 

“Harry was very amused to see you slipping around in the mud,” he said.

 

“Did he.” Remus raised a brow. “How did he see that?”

 

“We were watching you on my Christmas present.”

 

Remus’ mouth dropped open as he took that in. “Do you, er, do that often?”

 

“Could you put your shirt back on?” Severus said irritably. “And no, this was the first time. He wanted to see you.”

 

“Well, that’s fine. I suppose I should’ve thought that it would be useful in that respect.” Remus leaned over the trunk. “The shirt is wet. And dirty.”

 

“I knew you would be all right. He’s harder to convince.”

 

Remus pull out a new jumper and then shut the trunk to sit on it. “You seem defensive, but given the context, it seems like a perfectly reasonable cause for spying.”

 

“Fine then.”

 

Remus pulled the clean blue sweater on and stretched. “It’s so good to be home.”

 

“Yes,” Severus said dryly. “Home sweet tent.”

 

Remus leaned forward and looked up at Severus with a smile.

 

“Yes?”

 

“I _knew_ you would be a good singer.”

 

“Ugh.” Severus waved a hand at him and walked over to the raised area where a kitchen table could have gone, if they’d had one.

 

“I’m quite serious.” Remus grinned. “If I stop talking about it, will you keep singing to him?”

 

“I might,” Severus muttered, pretending to look through his books.

 

“Okay then. I’ll just have to be lucky enough to catch you.” Remus changed out his socks and then rose to start collecting all of their dirty clothes in a pile. “That’s a great song choice, though. Tired of the rain already?”

 

“What the hell is this island anyway? I think we might’ve been more comfortable on Drear.”

 

“Well, you chose it, not me.” Remus shrugged. “I don’t have particularly good memories of this place. Still, it ought to be safe enough for a time.”

 

Severus snorted. “Do you have good memories of any place you stayed as a child?”

 

“Do you?”

 

“Hogwarts. Well, sometimes.”

 

Severus sat back and pretended to read his book. Remus looked back at him occasionally, between stringing up clothes.

 

“That’s fair. I have some good memories of Hogwarts. Some bad,” Remus replied.

 

Severus was scowling deeply at his book. That grim blood magic one he’d gotten from Meklit’s basement. He licked his lips and shook his head. “So they were trying to cure you here?”

 

“Here, there, and everywhere.”

 

“How old were you, then?”

 

Remus flicked his wand to set up the cleaning charm. “Nine, or so.”

 

“When did they give up and just decide to live in the woods?”

 

Remus pinched his lips to the side. “Oh, we moved to that house a year or two after I’d been bitten. They didn’t give up on curing me for a long time. I don’t think they ever really did. One summer I found myself leaving the train station for a tiny country in the Ukraine where a wizard claimed that ‘every curse can be broken.’”

 

He paused, straightening out one of Severus’ shirts and pinning it more securely. “With love, apparently. Shockingly, still a werewolf.”

 

Severus nodded without looking up. “It’s interesting, this transient existence of yours. It’s one we’re giving to Harry, unless we can find something more stable. I think I would’ve preferred it, as a boy, to the claustrophobic hovel my father kept us in. I always thought there had to be so much more than that horrid little town.”

 

“You make a good point.” Remus walked over to sit opposite of Severus. “Upside to lycanthropy: Good excuse for travelling.”

 

Severus huffed and snapped his book shut irritably. “You know perfectly well that I didn’t mean that.”

 

“I’m not offended. We didn’t have a lot of money, but things might have been different, if we had less.”

 

“Yes. Your parents would have had fewer opportunities to torture you with ‘cures.’”

 

Remus knit his brows together and leaned against the back of the tent as he watched Severus.

 

“I’m only saying that things done for your own good might not be so. And I’m perfectly aware of some of the ways wizards have tried to cure your condition. Most of them are the basest Muggle superstition.”

 

“I didn’t mind. I would’ve done anything to help my parents. At first I didn’t know why they were doing all these things, however.”

 

“You didn’t know…” Severus leaned forward. “You didn’t know you were a werewolf?”

 

“I was _five_ ,” Remus replied. “Well, four at the time I was bitten. I didn’t understand. It wasn’t as though they could ask my opinion on what the best course of action would be. I was a small boy who loved finger-painting and chasing sprites in the yard and his stuffed doggie. It couldn’t have been easy for them, especially for my mum. No matter what they put me through, I know they did it with my best interests in mind.”

 

Severus tilted his book back and seemed to be considering something. “Would it make a difference? If you didn’t think they had your best interests in mind?”

 

“I think it would. But I do tend to forgive when perhaps I shouldn’t.”

 

“When should one forgive?” Severus unfolded his legs and ventured a toe out to poke Remus’ leg. “Should I have forgiven you?”

 

“Well, I’m glad you did, but I’m not sure forgiveness can be quantified by the person in the wrong. I think only the person who has been harmed can decide whether forgiveness can be granted or deserved.” Remus frowned and rested his arms over his knees. “Is this helping at all? I’m not sure what we’re talking about.”

 

“Parents and forgiveness.”

 

“So… with Harry and us, or… yours?”

 

“Either.”

 

Remus raked a hand through his hair and dissected the details of Severus’ appearance. A deep line was etched into his brow. His shoulders seemed bowed and heavy. He was holding onto that book like it might save his life.

 

“I forgive my parents because I’ve always felt like my condition was a burden. It warped everything. It still does, honestly. You’re very tolerant of all the accommodations I need.” Remus moved his foot to nudge Severus’ leg now. “If you don’t want to forgive _your_ parents, you aren’t by any means required to do so.”

 

“It isn’t like they’d know whether I did or not,” Severus muttered.

 

So they were both gone. Remus had suspected. “Then, the only needs you have cause to be worried about are your own.”

 

Severus screwed his mouth to the side. “Things weren’t easy for them, either. They had their reasons, their motivations. But my best interests were rarely a motivating factor for them.”

 

“I’m very sorry to hear that.” Though really, he wasn’t surprised at all. “You deserved better.”

 

“How would you know what I deserved? You don’t even know what happened. And I’m by far not a sweet little boy carrying around a tattered stuffed puppy dog with bloodstains on it.”

 

Remus felt blood rising to his cheeks at that comment. It was true, of course, but he didn’t need the reminder that Severus had seen so much of his life. “I say that you deserved better because every child deserves to believe his parents are taking care of him the best way they know how. I don’t know what happened with your parents, but with Harry? You put him first, always. Above your safety, you needs, even above your own ego.”

 

Severus looked back at Harry. “I have to.”

 

“You can tell me,” Remus said. He folded his hands and put them in his lap. “You don’t have to, but if you want to, you can tell me what happened. It isn’t like you’re short on knowledge about my childhood at this point.”

 

“If I told you, would you answer my questions about yours?”

 

“I already do. Honestly, I’ve given you more details at this point than I’ve told almost anyone. Partially, it’s because my bloody arse is on display every month, so it feels like you deserve whatever explanations are to be had.”

 

“You don’t have to tell me things if they are uncomfortable,” Severus said quietly. “I just like to know. I tend to be curious.”

 

“I know. But that’s normally a good thing, isn’t it?”

 

“Not when the things you want to know lead you into a cult of Pureblood mania.”

 

“No, I suppose not.” Remus rose and went to fold the clothes, which were now hanging pristinely on the line. He hummed Severus’ song from before as he did so.

 

“The sun ain’t gonna shine anymore,” Severus sang softly.

 

“The moon ain’t gonna rise in the sky,” Remus answered.

 

Their voices joined together in the next line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine Anymore" circa 1966, The Walker Brothers, or if you're so inclined, Alan Rickman a bit later: https://youtu.be/AZ52td1GMT0?t=1m16s


	11. Wholesome Family Mud-Slinging

While the days at Meklit’s boathouse seemed to have floated along filled with warmth and laughter, Severus cringed every morning on Tempus. The sky loomed over them with heavy, sinister clouds that blocked all light save for the occasional streak of lightning. The days dragged. One after the other. Nothing but darkness and the sounds of wind and rain.

 

On a whim, Severus had added some of the multicolored lights around the tent that Harry liked, and just left them there. It had caused an amused smile from Remus, and it offered a little diversion to their current dreary existence. 

 

With a sigh, Remus lay on his back with Harry beside him and stared up at the lights.

 

Severus, who had been making neat notes in the margins of _Spell-Shock_ , watched the two of them with a creased brow. Life in the tent was sad and boring. No one seemed to be looking for them here, but who would want to? This place was a dank wasteland, and the only reason they could really stay here was that Severus had set up their tent inland. Regardless, the storms would have still proven very dangerous, without their spells.

 

Remus lifted his wand and started to make shapes in the air—a spoon, a house, rabbits, a dog—turning to Harry after each one and asking, “What’s that?”

 

“Woof!” Harry said, reaching for the dog.

 

“You should make a wolf,” Severus suggested. “Then he’ll be close to right.”

 

“Don’t mock the toddler, Sev,” Remus said. But he swished his wand and projected the image of a large wolf anyway. “There we go. What’s that, Harry?”

 

“Woof!”

 

Severus chuckled. Remus eyed him, then looked to Harry again. “That’s right. It’s a wolf.” With another wave of his wand, six other wolves appeared. “You’ll usually see several at a time. Wolves tend to travel in packs.”

 

A black wolf snapped at the original gray one, and they chased each other around.

 

“Woofs!” Harry exclaimed.

 

Remus grinned, making the wolves nip and play in the air.

 

Severus turned in the other direction and tried to focus on his notes. The sounds of laughter were a distraction, however, and he set his book down and leaned over onto his knees to watch them. Harry had gotten to his feet and was trying to reach out to pet the “woofs.”

 

Severus felt his chest constricting slightly. “Should he really be doing that?”

                                                                                                                 

“It was your idea,” Remus said.

 

“I’m clearly to blame.” Severus put his book down and walked over to Harry, who was still trying to pet a woof, though his hand kept flying through it. “I don’t think we should make him too at ease around animals that could take a bite out of him.”

 

Remus pursed his lips and sat up, crossing his legs. “I was just trying to get him to speak more.”

 

“I know what you were trying to do. I’m merely suggesting caution.”

 

Remus banished the wolves with his wand. Harry looked around in surprise, then his forehead crinkled and he narrowed his eyes, peering around the tent to see where the wolves had gone.

 

“No worries, Harry.” Remus replaced the wolves with more bunnies.

 

“I didn’t mean to offend you-“

 

“It isn’t my intention for him to see a real wolf for quite some time, so no offense taken.”

 

But clearly, Remus was a _bit_ bothered by Severus’ reaction. He sat by Harry to help Remus populate the animals romping around the air above them and asked Harry a few questions as well.

 

“There, Harry. What’s that?” Severus asked, shooting a silvery snake from his wand.

 

Harry looked at Severus in puzzlement.

 

“It’s a snake,” Severus supplied. “Snake.”

 

“Are we going to have him pet the snake?” Remus scoffed.

 

“Hush. It’s not like he’s going to assume a snake is a big puppy.”

 

“I promise you, in the event that I was out at the full moon, he wouldn’t assume I’m a puppy either. I’m sure you know quite well that there’s a distinct difference.” Remus added a few birds, which tweeted pleasantly. It was a jarring contrast to the ongoing storm outside. “Past the age of ten, a werewolf is considered a potentially cuddly pet by no one.”

 

Severus raised a brow. “What are they like before that?” He paused “What are werewolves like at the age of four or five?”

 

“You’ll understand that I don’t really remember. And my parents weren’t inclined to take pictures.” Remus shrugged. “Supposedly, they are proportional in size to their age. My mother didn’t let my father lock me in the room upstairs until I’d gotten a bit older, though. She wanted to keep an eye on me. She was convinced that I would be less wild if I had company.”

 

Severus raised a brow. “Is it true?”

 

Remus looked back at him skeptically.

 

“I’m merely making a guess here, but I’d assume there has to be something that would make your transformations less… _lurid_. You said that locking you up in the basement would make it safer, but that was clearly a _lie_ ,” Severus said pointedly.

 

“Oh. Well, I meant safer for you and Harry.” Remus rose and stretched. “Mum was generally right. The wolf doesn’t like to be cooped up, and it prefers a pack. That’s not much of an observation, as normal wolves feel the same way.”

 

“So you’d be less inclined to try to kill yourself every month if you weren’t locked up?”

 

“Don’t even think about that.” Remus went to the front of the tent to watch the rain.

 

“Fine. I won’t mind then, when we have to bury you underground in one way or the other,” Severus snapped.

 

Remus gave him a blank expression. He blinked, slowly, and walked back to the little menagerie. “Was it that bad last time?”

 

“Not compared to your first time in Meklit’s basement.”

 

“Ah. Well.” Remus looked up to the top of the tent and took a deep breath. “Sometimes my feelings about things seep through. We are the same creature at the end of the day.”

 

Severus’ brows shot up. “Your feelings about…?” About the war. About Severus leaving with Harry. It had made everything _worse_.

 

“So if the transformations have gotten better, then _I’m_ doing better, I suppose.” Remus crossed his arms. “Don’t worry about it. We can’t change much of the circumstances. I can’t be left to run around. I wouldn’t recognize you.”

 

Harry seemed mesmerized by the snake, so Severus added two and had them dance for Harry. The boy stood between them, his little tongue peeking out as his eyes followed them in fascination. Then something occurred to Severus.

 

“How do you know your mother was right?”

“Pardon?”

 

“If your mother didn’t tell you, and you of course don’t remember, how do you know that the wolf in fact prefers company?”

 

Remus pressed his lips into a line. He said nothing for a moment, and then opened his mouth slowly, like he might find the words, if he just gave his lips enough time.

 

But he didn’t.

 

“Oh, have we found something you actually _don’t_ want to talk about?” Severus pressed. He was almost teasing. Remus looked so genuinely uncomfortable right now that it was terribly amusing.

 

“It’s not- I mean, it _is_ a secret, but it’s not one that- It affects more than just-“ Remus waffled.

 

“I see. I wonder what I have to give up for you to share that one with me.”

 

Remus flatted his lips again.

 

“So not just what it was like in Greyback’s camp. Or you would have simply said so,” Severus surmised. “Something else? Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out.”

 

“It’s not my secret to tell, really.” Remus shook his head and furrowed his brow. Then his eyes widened, and he knelt by Harry. “Oh, no, Harry. Don’t grab the snakes.” Remus shot a look at Severus. “He’s more likely to come into contact with snakes here than wolves, you know.”

 

“Depending on the time of the month,” Severus replied.

 

Remus rolled his eyes, pulled Harry into his lap, directed him to a pair of does, and proceeded to make them have a conversation for Harry.

 

Hence, his conversation with Severus was over. He _wasn’t_ going to share how he knew what made his transformation less horrifying. It was both interesting and frustrating, Severus thought. At least, it was something to think about in the tedium that was this tent.

 

***

 

The next morning, Severus was shaken awake and treated to a bright smile.

 

“Get up! You have to see this!”

 

Severus sat up and blinked irritably at Remus. He was unfazed by Severus’ glare, as always, and only smiled wider as he went to scoop Harry up and then disappeared through the front flap of the tent.

 

With a hrrumph, Severus rolled over.

 

Remus always seemed like it was a delight to greet the morning. Severus, on the other hand, usually preferred an hour or two of silence or at least the opportunity to start a fight. He tried to force his brain to sink back into dreams, but it wouldn’t budge. So he lay there irritably for several moments before he heard Harry’s laughter outside of the tent.

 

His brow furrowed as he realized what he _didn’t_ hear.

 

_Rain_. Gods above.

 

Severus shot up and out of the tent to see the sun shining above and Remus and Harry hopping over puddles, hand in hand.

 

“Can you believe this?” Remus said.

 

“No…” Severus shook his head. It was the most mundane thing to ever be miraculous. A moment of sunshine amidst eternal rain. Was the season changing? No, it was too early for that. Still too cold.

 

“Come play with us,” Remus entreated.

 

“Come play, come play!” Harry cheered, jumping up and down. The mud splattered around him.

 

“You’re making a huge mess,” Severus objected.

 

Remus raised a brow and looked down at Harry. Harry’s eyes widened, and he twisted his fingers together.

 

“Why don’t you go give Sev a hug?” Remus said.

 

“ _What?”_

 

Severus tensed as Harry came running for him. Then, with another futile glare at Remus, he darted in the other direction. Harry giggled as he chased him, crying “Seb! Seb!”

 

He was considering letting Harry catch him, even if the boy was filthy, but before he could he could do that, his foot slipped. His legs flew out in front of him, and he landed on his back in a wet splat.

 

“Oh!” Remus rushed to his side. “Are you alright?”

 

Severus made a loud click with his tongue and rolled his eyes.

 

“Sorry!”

 

“Fine. Help me up-“ Severus grunted as Harry hopped onto his chest and wrapped his muddy arms around him. “Do you have to encourage him, Harry?”

 

Harry laughed and the next thing Severus knew, he was closing his eyes to a smear of mud from a sticky hand. Remus covered his mouth as he tried not to laugh.

 

“You two. Honestly.” Severus rose, holding Harry carefully, and squinted up at the sun. “We get a day of reprieve from this horrible little rock’s weather, and you decide to make mud pies.”

 

Remus offered his hand. Severus looked at it, considering, then shifted Harry onto the ground and took Remus’ hand.

 

With a firm jerk, Severus pulled Remus down into the mud with him.

 

“Ah!” Remus came tumbling down with a splat.

 

He fell face first onto the ground, causing a squeal of laughter from Harry as Remus sputtered and wiped his face. Severus sat up and looked at Remus smugly.

 

“Traitors!” Remus objected. He shook his head. Mud caked over his hair on the right side, and he wrinkled his nose in annoyance.

 

“Good color on you!” Severus said.

 

Remus pressed his lips together in silent fury for a moment. Then, he lifted both hands into the air and slapped them against the ground. The mud around him launched itself, in a sputtering, impossible wave, toward Severus.

 

“No!” Severus lifted his coat and curled over Harry, trying to shield them both from the spray of mud. It worked, at first, but there was so _much_ of it. Would there be any dirt left on the ground? “You are a bloody HELLHOUND!” he roared.

 

Remus laughed, and the mudstorm abated. Severus peeked up in hopes he would be safe once again. Harry giggled and clapped his hands.

 

“Well, at least you’re amused. I’m not.” Severus tentatively lowered his coat and turned to Remus. “You’re going to have to clean this!”

 

“Worth it.” Remus grinned, biting his lip slightly as he came over. “Let’s try this again.”

 

“If you insist.” Severus reached up for Remus, who took his hand again without hesitation and pulled him up. Severus’ foot slipped slightly, and he lunged against Remus.

 

“I’ve got you,” Remus said.

 

“Oh, do you now,” Severus muttered. Was the exertion what was making him so warm?

 

He knew it wasn’t. And he lingered there in Remus’ arms longer than what was strictly necessary. If Remus noticed, he didn’t let on. He simply smiled, as warm as the sun above them, as he held Severus securely. He was stronger than he looked, really. At the moment anyway.

 

And it seemed like Remus could do more magic wandless than he’d ever let on.

 

Severus met Remus’ gaze and frowned. Remus reached toward Severus, and he pulled back slightly, but Remus was only drawing some of the hair hanging in Severus’ face behind his ear.

 

“Are you really all right? You hit the ground fairly hard,” Remus said.

 

“I’m perfectly fine,” Severus muttered.

 

Remus let out a sigh. “Well. Good.”

 

Severus was taking in the gentle look in Remus’ eyes when they suddenly flickered to the right, and his pupils grew rapidly into large black pools. Instinctively, Severus stepped away from him. Remus lifted his chin, whipped his head to the side, and held his hand up, as though to place himself between Severus and whatever he was looking at.

 

“What-“ Severus started, but Remus hushed him. A moment later, an old man came shuffling over the curve of the horizon with a heavy-looking pack strapped to his back.

 

“Remus,” Severus said quietly, “It’s an old man.”

 

“The old man isn’t of concern. It’s what’s on top of him.”

 

Severus narrowed his eyes and bent over to pick Harry up. Harry gave a small whine, as he’d been enjoying smacking his palms in the mud. “The fishing gear?”

 

“No. The Ariel.” Remus took a deep breath, and his eyes seemed to grow even more impossibly wide as they watched the man slowly making his way past their camp. From that distance, the wards would prevent anyone from seeing them, but that didn’t seem to be of any comfort to Remus right now.

 

“An Ariel…” Severus took a few steps to position himself and Harry behind Remus. “Care to expand?”

 

Remus drew in a breath with some effort. “It’s perched on top of the man. Try to look closely.”

 

“I’m looking! We can’t all have special lycanthrope eyes!”

 

“What do my eyes have to do with it? Just take a breath and _look_.”

 

Severus leaned over Remus’ shoulder and stared hard at the old man. He was just about to complain that nothing was there when he saw an outline of something. Hovering, bobbing along with the man’s steps. He blinked several times, and now he couldn’t _stop_ seeing… some _thing_.

 

The outline snapped into focus. A towering, shimmering creature hunched over the man. It had a long, beak-like nose, and hollow, empty eyes, and out of its back exploded a cascade of iridescent feathers. One claw, long and cruel, curled over the old man’s shoulder in a vice-like grip. It was horrible, and it was beautiful.

 

And it turned its head, slightly, and it stared right at them.

 

“Good God.” Severus stepped back toward the tent.

 

“Be still,” Remus urged. “Don’t run from it. It has its prey and has no need for us.”

 

“What is it _doing_ to that man?”

 

“Feeding. An Ariel… It subsists on despair. It follows those that grieve and suffer, and it eats their sorrow.”

 

“How poetic,” Severus drawled. The Ariel looked away from them and hunched over its old man. “So it’s like a Dementor.”

 

“No… Dementors feed off of your hope. They leave their victims an empty shell. Ariels are more sly. It’s a symbiotic relationship. They rarely kill their prey, as far as I’ve ever heard.” Remus shook his head. “I should have realized there must be some here. They protect their hosts, you see. Many people die here, from the storms, from the sea. And the survivors grieve. The Ariels must attach themselves to some of the people, protecting them and extending their lives.”

 

Severus realized as Harry made a noise of protest and started to grunt that he was holding on too tightly. “Sorry, Harry,” he whispered, shifting the boy onto his hip. There had been something in that creature’s eyes as it had looked at him, or _into_ him. Severus felt as though it had raked a possessive claw over his insides, and he was deeply chilled. To Remus, he asked, “Are _we_ in danger?”

 

Remus looked back at Severus, seeming to calm now that the Ariel and its prey were well on their way down the other side of the hill. His eyes almost seemed normal again. “We’ll probably be fine. Just er, steer clear of the town when you’re on your own. It’s easier for them to attach to someone who is alone. But you can see them now. They can hide themselves, but only when you don’t know what you’re looking at.”

 

“Hm. Not unlike you.” Severus petted Harry’s hair, which was now getting stiff with mud. “My, what lovely places we find ourselves in.”

 

“It would be a lot less lovely if you hadn’t gotten us that tent.” Remus touched Harry’s back. “We’ll have to clean him up before putting him down for his nap.”

 

“No,” Harry said.

 

“Don’t say that word,” Severus scolded. “You know he knows what it means.”

 

“Silly me.” Remus leaned over. “No, Harry. No nap.”

 

“No nap!” Harry echoed.

 

“How about you and I play some more before it starts to rain again?” Remus suggested. He looked up at Severus and reached out to take Harry. “You could get cleaned up, if you like.”

 

Severus glanced back to the tent for a moment and considered the time he would get to himself, but then shook his head. “Who knows when I’ll get to see the sun shining again?”

 

“Excellent point.” Remus took a quick look around and grabbed a stick. “Have you ever played caterpillar hopscotch?”

 

“I don’t know why you bother to ask. Of course, I haven’t.”

 

“Oh, you’ll love it.”

 

Severus rolled his eyes, but he really couldn’t wait to see Remus and Harry hopping along in the mud.

 

***

 

For the life of him, Severus couldn’t imagine where Remus had gleaned his parenting skills. Though Harry had begun to warm to Severus, he continued to be tremendously envious at how naturally it all seemed to come for Remus. In spite of Remus’ claims that he had very loving parents, Severus wasn’t inclined to give much credit to Lyall Lupin. There were, Severus figured, a base level of behaviors necessary to be a decent parent, and Wolf Senior had failed at many of them spectacularly. Being a good homeschooler in DADA didn’t make up for it, in Severus’ estimation.

 

But, as Remus had said, he _did_ tend to forgive too easily.

 

That left the unaccounted for Hope Lupin. And maybe there was something there. A loving mother might make up for a lot lacking in a child’s life. Severus had never met her, but from Remus’ recollections (which seemed to all center around his burden on her and cinnamon recipes) she seemed to have been a very warm, very resilient woman.

 

Remus cleaned Harry up with a gentle smile on his lips and a light in his eyes. Who knew where Remus would be, if he weren’t here playing mum to his friends’ child? Chances were that Remus might yet have succeeded in shedding himself of this pesky mortal coil, given enough time and neglect.

 

While Severus would never have looked to his own father for anything other than a guide of what _not_ to do, he wasn’t sure that he could count on his memories of his mother, either.

 

_“Get inside!”_

_Eileen grabbed Severus’ small wrist with an unescapable grip and shot Eldon Stanwick a sneer as she dragged her boy up the stairs and into the house._

_“What possesses you, I’ll never know! Go to the table and get to work. You’re so late!” Eileen swept past him, her black skirts billowing, and went to work on cutting up some wilted vegetables._

_The laundry she’d taken in this afternoon was covering most of the table in neat piles. She couldn’t return it too quickly, given the fact that a Muggle taking in that much work would probably wouldn’t have it back that soon. The owner would probably knock on their door during dinner._

_“I was…” Severus hesitated. He couldn’t very well say he was out practicing a few spells with the girl he’d met. He wasn’t supposed to be doing that._

_“It doesn’t matter. Honestly. Just open your books and get started. I need you to finish what I’ve laid out for you and get the books back in your room before your father returns from the factory.”_

_Unspoken: His father wouldn’t be terribly pleased to see books on potions on the kitchen table._

_And not terribly pleased would mean his mother getting out her wand after dinner to cover bruises. His father was never in a good mood when he came home, although he never came straight from the factory, and he always stank of gin by the time he made it to their door._

His mother had probably loved him. Severus hadn’t thought about it much during his childhood, but he doubted she would have stuck up for him as much as she had, if she had no affection for her child. He just wished, sometimes, that she’d loved him enough to leave her husband and find someplace safe.

 

Home had been still extremely unpleasant, regardless of which parent was home. Tobias had been stern and occasionally explosive. Eileen had been overly-critical and oddly driven.

 

“Princes are _survivors_ ,” she’d once said to Severus, gravely.

 

And if he thought about it that way, her severe words and looks and the way she had pushed him made all the more sense. She had always cared more for Severus’ safety and success than his happiness, and likely, she had been raised in the same way.

 

“I don’t need you to _like me_ ,” she’d once snapped, after Severus had talked back to her during a particularly difficult lesson. “I need you to get this _right_. You’re feeding this potion to your rat when this is done, and we’ll see what happens _then_.”

 

Other students might have parents buying their potions, but Eileen Snape never had, and she scorned folks who were such failures at self-sufficiency.

 

“You never know what some shirty apothecary is going to slip into your brew. Best make it yourself.”

 

She had pushed him. Made sure he valued the education he was to receive. Made sure that he knew how much depended on his efforts there. Things wouldn’t be easy for him, whether he lived in the Muggle World or the Wizarding World, and he would have to fight for recognition every step of the way.

 

While he appreciated his mother’s dedication to forcing him take advantage of his opportunities, that model of parenthood was less than useless for a child Harry’s age. Severus would have to accept, or discard, that method when Harry was older. 

 

Carrying two warm cups of tea, Severus came to sit nearby Remus, who was now fluffing Harry’s hair dry with his wand. He considered, for a moment, his Aunt Adeline (or great aunt, rather) as a potential source of parental lessons, but she was nearly as strict as his mother had been, and what he remembered of her, aside from being his only extended family to bother calling him by his name, was her interminable coldness. She was ruthlessly rational. Brilliant, but detached. Eileen had been the only person Severus had ever seen Adeline smile for, and Adeline had never willingly held or touched Severus, beyond giving his wrist a jerk or the back of his head a thwack.

 

Still. She had offered him a place to live after his mother had died. Perhaps more for lingering sentiment for his mother than any affection for Severus himself. Adeline had hated Tobias _bitterly_. Regardless, Severus had appreciated not having to go back to that house. Even if it meant having more run-ins with the spoiled Prince side of the family. His cousins liked to treat him like a house-elf, unless he sequestered himself in the attic, and they had all collectively decided to call him The Halfblood.

 

He wasn’t sure exactly when he’d started scrawling the name on his books, but it had given him a sense of ownership over that part of himself. It was hard to say that he liked one side more than the other. Although Severus had been happy to pretend neither his father nor his surname existed at all, and his housemates had increasingly valued a pure wizard heritage, Severus had never felt particularly wanted by the Prince side of his family either. Every direction before him had seemed to sprawl towards a dead end. Until Mulciber had begun whispering in his ear about how there were those who would appreciate a mind like Severus’.

 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Remus said suddenly.

 

Severus looked up from his tea.

 

“Only, you’ll have to spot me the penny.” Remus leaned back and rubbed Harry’s belly. After all that running around, the boy was getting tuckered out. They might not have to fight him for a nap.

 

“Just thinking.”

 

“Clearly.”

 

“I suppose I shouldn’t press you for sensitive information if I’ve no intention of reciprocating.” Severus sipped his tea.

 

“It’s fine.” Remus dipped his head down and blew at Harry’s hair, causing it to fly up.

 

Severus fought a grin. Harry fought a yawn.

 

“When my mother died, I had an aunt who took custody of me. I wasn’t old enough yet to live on my own, though I was already staying at Hogwarts as much as they would let me,” Severus offered. “I was thinking about her, and all the horrid family members that invaded her house, at least once a week. Sometimes more.”

 

“Was she as bad as Petunia?”

 

Severus raised a brow. “Well, she was no Muggle. I think if I’d been there as a child, she would have been just as attentive as Petunia. I don’t think Adeline liked children much.” He set his mug down and looked into Harry’s sleepy, blinking eyes. “I’m glad to have another halfblood here raising a halfblood, honestly. I’m not sure anyone else really gets the feeling of straddling two worlds the way we do. Lily never saw it as a conflict, just a challenge of other people’s perceptions. She absolutely loved Hogwarts. At least until things began to get dangerous. But for me-“ Severus paused. “I don’t know if you ever felt this way. I suppose I shouldn’t assume.”

 

“But for you?” Remus prompted.

 

Severus furrowed his brow and shook his head. “Half of one thing, half of another. One foot in a dreary, hardscrabble world; the other in a world both powerful and impossible. Coming from everywhere and belonging nowhere. And yet, somehow, you’re expected to choose one and eschew the other.”

 

Silence reigned for a moment. When Severus finally looked up, Remus was watching him pensively and worrying his lower lip.

 

Severus felt his cheeks burning. Why had he said that? It was likely he’d just betrayed another set of prejudices that would leave Remus cold and stern for hours.

 

“I don’t know that I felt exactly as you did, but…” Remus said finally. “Belonging nowhere? I _do_ recognize that feeling. For some of the same reasons as you did, and for my own, of course. I reckon I just began to associate belonging with people, and not places.”

 

Severus thought on that for a moment. It must be a cold comfort now, Severus thought. Those people Remus had created his home with were all gone.

 

Remus extended his arm, and in a graceful flourish of his left wrist, presented his hand. Severus stared for a moment as Remus waited with the seeming patience of a stone. Then, he took it. Remus’ hand was a bit rough, and his grip firm, without being aggressive. Harry began to doze in Remus’ lap as they sat there together, across from one another but still connected.

 

After a time, Remus began to smile. A restrained and strangely conspiratorial smile.

 

“What?” Severus demanded.

 

Remus bit his lip again, perhaps in an effort to quell the grin spreading across his face.

 

And again: “ _What?”_

 

“I don’t think I could _possibly_ explain,” Remus said finally. “It’s not even _funny_. You and I sitting here together. Talking about feeling like outsiders while we’re camping out on the island of the _damned_ and hiding from the _entire_ Wizarding World.”

 

“Yes. Well, I’ve never been one to make life any easier for myself. In fact, if I could make it harder, and drive away anyone willing to help, all the better.” Severus looked down as Remus’ grip tightened just a bit.

 

“However skilled you happen to be at the art of self-sabotage, I’m just as skilled enduring potential irritants, no matter how dreadful.”

 

“I’ve _noticed_.” Brazenly, Severus stroked his finger down the back of Remus’ hand. “You’re exceptionally hard to bait.”

 

“I’m well practiced in ignoring a hook. I recognize them instantly. Trust that Sirius was at least as good at picking a fight as you are.” Remus’ jaw tensed a bit. “He just laughed a good deal more than you. When I make you smile, I feel as though I’ve earned it.”

 

Severus hated to see Remus thinking of that one. It unsettled old memories and made him sad. Severus pursed his lips. “Smiling hurts your face.”

 

Remus chuckled and pinched his eyes closed. Severus squeezed his hand and felt a tightening in his chest.

 

“You’re sometimes just as much of a challenge to genuinely cheer. I might set that as my goal, instead. I might be more successful.” Severus tilted his head back. “I do like to win.”

 

“Do you?” The words were tinged with warm amusement.

 

The amber of Remus’ eyes flickered like a gentle fire. It was mesmerizing.

 

“You know I do.”

 

A babbling noise interrupted. Their fingers slipped apart, and their eyes broke from one another and dropped to Harry, who was curling over on his side and murmuring in his sleep. Remus wrapped his arm around Harry more securely.

 

“You can’t drive me anywhere, now, Sev. I’m trapped.”

 

“Clearly,” Severus drawled.

 

He rose and went to fetch a blanket and a few pillows. One of these, he set behind Remus’ back so he wouldn’t have to move while Harry napped; the other, he sat on himself, getting comfortable where he could see both of them easily. The blanket, he draped over Harry, and a bit of Remus.

 

“Thanks, Sev.”

 

“It’s nothing.”


	12. Together We Weep

As tightly ensconced as they were in their hidden and warded tent, brief excursions out into the world were necessary. Still, they made these trips sparingly. Severus fetched magical supplies and a few papers from Edgewise, and Remus ventured into the town. However, the first few times Remus had gone, Severus made him drink a potion that caused him to blend into his surroundings. It was clever, and it gave him a chance to observe the people of the cursed little town that continued to persist in spite of storm and Seelie.

The houses sagged, and the people sagged, and everyone moved about their business as though they carried huge invisible packs on their backs. For some of them, they did quite literally have something on their backs. The Ariels bobbed along on top of them, a bleak and tangible reminder of the loss that likewise followed them every day.

Although the Ariels occasionally turned to stare at Remus with their hollow, piercing eyes, none seemed particularly interested in pursuing him. It did occur to him, however, that if they’d chosen this hideout only a few months ago, he would have been much more enticing prey. Even so, he would have to be on his guard.

Remus peered into a few windows as he made his way through the disheveled little town. The rain was light today, and he’d managed to keep dry on this trip simply by holding his wand above him with a deflection (he was not so adept with water charms, unfortunately).  And with the somewhat friendly weather, many of the people had left their homes to go about the town to do trade or ventured toward the ocean to man their fishing boats.

The seas, however, remained unfriendly. They shouldn’t be going out. Yet one by one they all trudged toward their potential doom.

What was the alternative? Unlike most rainy climes, there was not an abundance of edible vegetation, and from Remus’ observations, none of the townsfolk were wizards. There would be no popping out to get another source of food.

He was about to head back to the tent when several children came barreling through the streets, knocking on doors and yelling, “Come to shore! Come to shore!”

The few who were to be found in their homes and half of those doing their business in town poured out to follow the boys back to the docks. Remus held a hand up to check his visibility and hurried after them.

The waves lapped angrily against the docks, as though offended by the gall of the fishermen, coming to greet it so early in the season. And no more than a hundred feet out, tipped and swayed a boat with a dozen men and women pulling on a huge net.

Remus stopped as he saw the enormous rolling eye of the fish they were attempting to catch. It was easily the size of their meager boat, with large trailing mustaches drooping from the sides of its mouth and twinkling scales. Its belly was completely transparent. Monstrous organs worked and pulsed inside it as it thrashed its body against the boat.

“Jayne and Nall already went over!” one of the boys cried as they reached the dock.

“Hurry! Hurry!” barked a towering woman with gray streaking through her dark brown hair. “To the boats! We have to spear her from the side, or their boat will capsize before they can pull her in!”

Remus hovered near the water as the townspeople went to their work. Hands tied knots tight and grabbed spears and nets. It was obvious, though, that the woman was right. The hull was already starting to break under the stress.

With a flick of his wand, Remus shot a quick spell to hold the boat together. Beyond that, he was torn. The easiest fix would be to cut the side of the net. Let the fish free and the people would be likewise saved. In that case, though, they might well starve.

He settled for aiding the tall woman as she hefted a spear toward the fish. Her spear would have been accurate, but she was too far away, and the seas too choppy. So Remus guided the spear farther and faster. It sunk deep into the fish’s eye.

It thrashed once more and then went still. The townspeople let out a raucous cheer.

Together, they pulled the fish in, with the occasional additional cheers. The children dipped long poles with curved ends into the water. Remus wasn’t sure at first what they were doing, until one of the fishermen motioned them back, and said, “Go off to Nall’s mum, and Jayne’s wife. They’ll need to prepare themselves for The Weep.”

The two fishers who had gone over had died, then. A Weep was both a party and a funeral, in its way. A common occurrence, for the people of Tempus. Remus wondered if any Ariels would perch on Nall or Jayne’s loved ones.

He hoped not. He wished he could have done more. There were _so many_ Ariels here. When he’d visited as a child, his father had only been able to point out the one. It seemed like the island truly belonged to them, now.

“Sir?”

Remus looked down to see a smallish, faded-looking girl gazing up at him. The potion had worn off. Damn. “Hello, there.”

“Are you a sailor? Did you come on a cargo boat?”

Remus considered this. If he’d come with a crew, they’d have hopes that he might have supplies. “No. My boat went off course and washed up on the rocks.”

The girl nodded seriously. “That’s too bad. There’s an open shack up on the far hill, though. You could stay there. But you’ll have to learn to fish.”

So grim. She had no hope whatsoever that those who washed up here could ever leave.

“Do you want to come to the Weep?” she asked. “I’m Nian. It’ll be at my house.”

Remus’ throat tightened. He knelt down to her. “Was one of the fishers who went over your family?”

“My big sister,” Nian whispered. Oddly, she didn’t cry. She simply stared, with tired eyes. It was difficult to even say what age she was.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Why?” Nian tilted her head to the side. “It was the sea. It’s always the sea. He takes who he wants.” She pursed her lips and reached over to touch his nose. “Did he get you too?”

Remus pulled back. He felt his cheeks burning at the attention to his scars. In all honesty, he tended to forget them, spending all his time around Harry, who didn’t know him any other way, and Severus, who didn’t seem to care.

“No, this one came in a fight,” Remus admitted.

“That’s mean, going for the face. And dumb, too. You should go for the belly. That’s where the organs are.”

Remus frowned.

Nian sniffed and turned her head, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand “I have to go home. Momma will want to prepare for the Weep. You can come. It’ll be tomorrow. There will be food.”

“Thank you. I’ll see if I can’t come help in some way.” Remus rubbed the back of her shoulders. Nian tensed briefly, as though she wasn’t sure what he was doing or why. Then, she looked at him curiously, and her shoulders slumped forward.

How could he tell her that life shouldn’t be this hard? But she’d never known anything else. This probably wasn’t even the first time she’d lost a family member. That kind of numb, rolling, unending feeling of grief that made it hard to even react to new pain, it bespoke to more than one hard loss. It was the feeling, or absence of feeling, that came when you were simply too overwhelmed to respond to the pain anymore.

Remus took his leave while the people were preoccupied with transporting the fish. It was so strange and so big. What a prize it was. Some of the children who hadn’t run off to tell the families continued to jump and yip by the side of the procession. But Remus didn’t believe it was worth what it had cost them.

It was hard for Remus to judge, though. He wasn’t stuck in this place. Not anymore.

***

“You are an idiot.”

Remus looked up from where he was buttoning up Harry’s shirt. “What should I have done? Let the boat-full of them die?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Severus practically groaned with the obviousness of it. “Suppose you were seen by a wizard? Would the lives of a few fools be worth so much very then?”

Remus creased his brow. “Lives don’t _stop_ having worth.”

Severus clicked his tongue.

“In any case, there are no wizards here, save us. I’m fairly confident of that. You can come with me next time, if you don’t believe me.”

“But there _might_ be.”

“If someone had spotted me and intended to come for us here, the Scope would’ve gone off.”

Severus crossed his arms and stared at Remus until he was forced to meet his gaze.

“I’ll be careful. I didn’t intend to be seen, just to spare the lives of the remaining fishers.”

“Of _course_ , you did.”

Remus rose with Harry. “Do you want to pack up?”

Severus pursed his lips. _This_ was the burden of having an incurably well-intentioned partner in crime. To be fair, Remus did look a bit abashed. Adorably so. Infuriatingly adorable.

“Stop that.”

“What am I doing now?”  Remus’ frown deepened.

“Just stop. We’ll keep a sharper eye on the people here. There are ways to discern if there are any other wizards in the area.”

“True.” Remus set Harry down in front of his blocks.

Severus crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes to slits as it occurred to him that Remus was entirely too confident that they were the sole wizards on this island. “And how do you do that?”

“You just said- Don’t you know?” Remus lowered himself to sit by Harry.

“I’m asking how _you_ do it. You can, can’t you? When you say there aren’t any other wizards, you aren’t guessing, are you? And you’re not using a spell. You’ve known before the Scope went off that wizards were coming for us. I’ve watched you sense spirits and fairy creatures that I couldn’t even _see_.” Severus waited for Remus to look up, but he didn’t. Severus went to sit in front of them. “I remember you saying only a few weeks ago that you would answer whatever I asked, and yet you seem reluctant to explain any details about the nature of your condition lately.”

“Well, some of it is that you’ve asked for secrets that aren’t really mine to divulge. Some of it is that I don’t…” Remus took a deep breath and repositioned a block so that Harry’s tower wouldn’t fall over. “I don’t like to think about the fact that, in reality, my condition isn’t really a once a month change. I’m different all of the time.”

“I find that odd. Difference or no, this is probably the first practical aspect of lycanthropy I’ve detected.” Severus leaned forward. “There had to be _some_ kind of benefit.”

“The Scope is more accurate than I am. It—what I feel—is really just a physical reaction. Sometimes I do know when danger is near, but I can’t turn it on or off, and I can’t do it directly after the full moon if I’m too tired. I need a bit of rest first. It’s just, _there_. Or it’s not.”

“When it is, though, it’s exceptionally helpful. When you’re alerted, I can see your reaction, and thus prepare myself. We don’t even have to exchange words,” Severus pointed out.

“You see it? How?”

Severus swiveled a finger in front of Remus’ face. “Your eyes. The pupils. It’s like watching a cat spot its prey before pouncing.”

Remus looked stricken. Why was he so affected by what was essentially a compliment?

“Honestly, you don’t need to be so dramatic. There’s going to come a moment when we need those extra few seconds your senses give us. Aren’t you always trying to be the pragmatic one?”

Remus pressed his lips into a line. “I find it hard to appreciate any part of my monstrous nature.”

Severus blinked slowly at that. Remus leaned over to rub Harry’s back, avoiding Severus’ gaze.

_Lyall Lupin was a very loud man. How he managed to be quite so loud without speaking a single word that might tip off anyone listening as to the **reason** for his anger was a mystery._

_“Of all the short-sighted, irresponsible-! How could you have let him follow you? You **know** what could have happened!”_

_Remus’ eyes were fixed on the ground. He was as pale as milk, apart from his eyes, which betrayed him. They were lined in with red and strain, and a vicious purple bruise lingered on the right side of his face. When his lips moved in response, barely any sound escaped._

_Severus stood in the hallway, trying with every fiber of his being to hate hate **hate** Remus Lupin. After all, Remus had sided with his idiot friends over Severus. Remus had lied to him. And the night before, Remus had almost killed him._

_“This was a mistake. We never should have let you come to school,” Lyall scolded._

_Remus flinched at that, and Severus felt himself grow cold. It might have been easier for Severus, never having known him at all. But Severus wasn’t sure that was what he wanted._

_“Maybe,” Remus muttered._

_Maybe, if Severus’ father had shown, or even his aunt, things would have gone differently. Maybe the old man would’ve had some kind of spontaneous paternal emotion and demanded justice on his son’s behalf. Maybe Aunt Adeline would have stormed out of the office intend on exposing this whole matter and letting the Wizengamot deal with it all. Instead, Severus found himself sitting in the headmaster’s office on one side of Dumbledore’s desk, with Lyall Lupin and a wilting Remus Lupin on the other side._

_And the hate seeped out of his heart. The anger remained, and would stay for quite a long time. But all of Severus’ hate focused sharply onto more obvious culprits._

_“I don’t **care** about this,” Severus interrupted. Lyall Lupin looked at him in surprise, his face suddenly transforming from the fierce father to the repentant Ministry man. It was a bizarre shift. “I don’t care about **Lupin** ,” he repeated. “I don’t know why **he’s** even here.”_

_“Severus, you intimated that you wanted me to take care of this matter,” Dumbledore said in an irritatingly calm voice._

_“I do! But he didn’t lead me out there, knowing what I’d find. He wasn’t the one who thought this would be an absolutely hilarious joke. Look at him!” Severus stood and slammed his palms on Dumbledore’s desk. “Why aren’t Black and Potter here? Why are you protecting them? They tried to **kill me**!”_

_Dumbledore folded his fingers together pensively._

_Then, in a soft, hoarse voice, Remus spoke: “James and Sirius? They led you? They didn’t say-”_

_“Then they **lied** ,” Severus snapped. With all the force of a toddler stomping on a bug that had already had its wings ripped off._

_He knew he wouldn’t be getting any justice today. Dumbledore had always protected Potter and Black, and there was no one at this school to protect boys like Severus. At the very least, he had this, the look of abject betrayal on Remus’ face._

_“Wait. Your friends know about this? You **told** them?”_

_“I didn’t-“_

_“This is exactly what I’m talking about, Remus. You let them know your secret, and this is what happens!” Lyall gestured to Severus. “You could have killed this boy! Or worse, **turned** him!”_

_“I’m so sorry,” Remus managed in a hollow whisper. He wasn’t speaking to his father, though. His eyes were on Severus. And they begged him._

_Severus crossed his arms and turned away. It hurt all the more that Severus had **cared** what Remus thought of him, that he’d actually been **worried** about Remus’ health for years. Maybe now, at least, Remus would separate himself from those reckless, self-involved idiots who had proven themselves so careless with Remus’ secret._

_Dumbledore was now trying to smooth this over. Trying to offer Severus some kind of wisdom, in exchange for his silence. But there was nothing that could placate him, if Dumbledore had no intention of punishing Potter and Black. There was no point for a Slytherin half-blood to reach out to a full-blood Gryffindor. He would side with his own, always. Didn’t everyone?_

_No. Severus **would** keep Remus’ secret. But he would do it because he was **better** than Potter and Black, who had so little care for anything but their own entertainment. It was a pity that Remus hadn’t realized that sooner._

Severus laced his fingers together as he watched Remus avoiding his gaze. It impressed upon him how deeply the words of their fathers were written into their souls. Good intentioned or ill, both of them were the culmination of every utterance their parents had placed upon them.

“Formidable though you may be,” Severus said sternly, “you are no monster.”

“You really ought to think back to what your sixteen-year-old self would say to that.”

“Teenagers are idiots. And we’re talking about an ability that might save Harry’s life one day, not your transformation.” Severus rose and dusted his jeans off. “Have some sense, and get some perspective. I wasn’t trying to shame you. Now that I’m used to the more violent part of it, which we can’t do anything about at the moment, the minor differences don’t bother me much, other than to think about how they might help or hinder our goal here.”

“You’re right, of course,” Remus muttered.

_“My father tried everything to cure me. Everything you could possibly imagine both rational and imaginary, safe or otherwise. But… There’s no cure, of course. Father did love me, but he always hated that part of me. He didn’t have to say it. I wanted to learn defensive magic because I wanted to prove that I was one of the good ones.”_

It was obvious why Remus would go out of his way to save strangers. He’d based his whole life around fighting what was inside of him, something this family had loathed and consequently something he himself could barely abide…

It wasn’t entirely separate from Severus’ feelings growing up of being part of two worlds and fitting into neither. Pureblood family members never failed to treat him as tainted and beyond hope. But while Remus had felt that he could earn the approval of those who should have loved him unconditionally, Severus had never believed change was possible in his life, other than, of course… Allying with the right people.

“I always felt that by making oneself useful, one could justify your existence,” Severus said.

Remus looked up curiously.

“Clearly, we aren’t all an amalgamation of skills and assets and liabilities, but the world is a lot more comprehensible in that way. And it’s not entirely wrong, even if some like to think better of others.” Severus rolled up his sleeves and knelt by Harry. “Dumbledore never had much value for me, until I’d overheard something I shouldn’t. Something that he wanted. Would he have had any interest in shielding me from the mess I’d made for myself, if I hadn’t something to offer? I doubt it.”

“That’s sweet, Sev.”

“We’re talking about the man who used you as a spy, and then a soldier, and then left you for dead. Looking back, I have to wonder if he didn’t offer you an education simply to secure the loyalty of a werewolf who could get close to Greyback when the time came. I’m right in assuming that he asked you to do so, and you did not come up with the idea on your own?”

Remus lifted up a block and seemed to think about what Severus had said before placing it to the immediate left of Harry’s tower. “Yes. He did ask me to do it. And I agreed.”

“Hm. My point being, even Gryffindors sometimes treat people as objects to move on their chessboard.” Severus stroked Harry’s hair. “Coming for him is probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my life, but I can’t regret it. And I don’t regret doing it with you. I like having you here. Oddity and all. Maybe even more for the oddity, to be honest. Though, I’d like to spare you the pain of it, if I could.”

Remus bit his lip. “I’m not very good about being open regarding my condition, but I am trying. I’ll… Try harder. And, thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. Though if you can repay my gratitude by staying hidden and letting us make use of your abilities judgment-free, I’d appreciate it.”

Remus smiled vaguely. Then, he drew in a deep breath, leaned his elbow onto his leg and rested his head against his hand as he looked up at Severus. “You asked before how I know the wolf can be better. It’s because James and Sirius had Animagus forms that were big enough to keep me company. Wolves are pack animals, and they hate to be alone as much as they hate to be locked up.”

He looked up at the top the tent and sighed. “ _I_ hate to be alone.”

Severus raised a brow. That was definitely something. “I didn’t realize they’d gone and become Animagi.”

“Well, they never did officially. It didn’t stop them from romping around the grounds after curfew.”

“So, you intended to cover for them, even in death? I doubt the Ministry would do much to charge Potter now, and they’ve already got Black for life.”

“I don’t know _what_ I intended. It seemed so disloyal to tell anyone.”

Severus snorted. “Maybe you _were_ meant to be a Hufflepuff.”

Remus turned his head in his hand and covered his eyes as he grinned.

“But that’s good information to have.” Severus paused, considering what it must mean to Remus to offer secrets like that about his departed and imprisoned friends. It had never occurred to Severus that Potter and Black might be capable of something like that, but they’d really quite gone out of their way to make their friend feel like part of their group. Indeed, to help him with his problem. Possibly more than his own family had, since clearly Lyall had made no effort to learn to transform into a wolf. An accomplished wizard like Lyall should have been able to manage it, and it probably would have done wonders for a young werewolf, to have his actual father guiding him while in his transformed state.

Finally, Severus said quietly, “Thank you for telling me.”

He really owed Remus some sort of personal divulgence in exchange, but Severus could think of nothing appropriate that might follow. The best he could do, for the time being, would be to once again be a careful guard of Remus’ secrets.

***

 “Go. You’re the one who craves company, not I.”

Remus pursed his lips and held a jumper out in front of him for inspection. It was dark, but not black. He left most of the black to Severus, as he seemed to like it.

“If we’re going to stay here for any extended period, it could be useful to get to know the natives,” Remus pointed out.

“Then you get to know them. They’ll get on better with you, in any case.” Severus put the sweet rolls Remus had baked that morning into a small box.

“You’re not all that bad, once one’s gotten to know you,” Remus offered. He pulled the jumper over his head and turned to Severus, who was staring at the rolls as though angry at them somehow.

“I’m not sure what makes you think I want anyone else to know me.”

Remus took the box from him and met his eye. Severus shrugged.

“Go on. Be our emissary to the world.”

Remus wasn’t sure what possessed him then. His hand moved to gently stroke Severus’ shoulder. Redness bloomed in Severus’ pale cheeks at the gesture, and Remus smiled a little.

“I won’t be too long.”

Oddly, the skies seemed to have cleared that evening. Remus watched the bright stars overhead winking down at him with a hint off mischievousness. He’d attended a Weep before, as a child. One of the girls from town had drowned, and the people gathered in her family’s house, bringing all kinds of food, playing music, and her parents, both of them, had sat by the fire. They had spoken to no one, but nodded solemnly when folks came by to offer their sympathies.

It was one of the few times Remus had been allowed out of the house while they’d been visiting. It had rained almost the entire trip. His memories were filled with chill, and wet, and pervasive nausea. The potions his father had concocted from the ingredients found here, which ought to have tamed the wolf, had only made Remus violently ill.

He’d been eager to attend the Weep, though. He had met the girl when she’d come by their house offering fishing gear for sale (or trade), and then another day, salted fish. Then, she’d started to come by after her workday was over, since his mother didn’t tend to buy anything, and sat with Remus to keep him company. His mother had been so grateful that she sent the girl home with baskets of food to share with her family.

When he’d gone to the Weep with his mother, he had leaned on her during walk over and asked her all manner of unanswerable questions about where the girl had gone to, and what they could do to make things better for her family.

“There isn’t much to be done, when someone dies,” Hope had said, with her hand gently tousling Remus’ hair. “Sometimes all you can do is be there with them. At most, take a few of their burdens on your own shoulders.”

It bothered Remus that he couldn’t remember the little girl’s name.

It wasn’t difficult to follow the townspeople to the Weep. The lights were off in all of the houses, but the torches were lit in the streetlamps. And of course, one weathered little shack stood out from the rest, with folks mingling out in front, and the sounds of song and laughter from within.

No one stopped him as he approached. A few eyes drifted his way, and a few hands waved in greeting, even though most had either never seen him before, or couldn’t possibly remember the pale little boy from years ago.

The inside of the house was warm, likely owing to a meager fire and the throng of bodies inside. Remus could now see that the music came from a group of young men and women playing an assortment of flutes and reedpipes. He set the rolls he’d baked on a long dinner table filled with other dishes and went to circulate.

Before he could even reach Nian and her parents, who were sitting by the fireplace, a group of men pulled Remus to the side of the room. After a quick round of names, an old man named Ralder who seemed to be more grizzled whiskers and coat than anything else, began to talk energetically.

“Did you see the catch yesterday? What a bloody beast of a fish! The biggest I’ve seen in well nigh seven years. You look like you might be the bloke little Ni said she spoke to by the shore.” Ralder made a zig-zag motion over his face. “Said you got in a scuffle with some less than honorable chap. And your boat washed up here? Poor piece of luck. Are you on your own then?”

Remus puzzled for a moment over which question he should answer first. “Yes, that was me. It was an incredible catch. Who was the woman who speared it?”

“Ah, Gaya,” Ralder said with a chuckle. “ _That_ girl. Made of sterner stuff, that one, huh?”

“I wouldn’t go up against her if I were made of mud and stone,” said Cordin, a younger man with red hair and a sparse little beard.

“I think even the wind and the rain think twice about crossing her,” said a blonde woman as she came by. Her hair was knotted into two complex braids running down either side of her head. “You lot wish you could sink a fish like Gaya could.”

“Is she here tonight?” Remus asked.

“No. She came early to talk to the family, but went off on her own. Dangerous, that. She and Nall were close.” The blonde shook her head. “But if anyone can wander the waste as they grieve, it would be Gaya.”

Remus looked between them curiously. Ralder raised a finger and nodded to him.

“Folks disappear out there after a loss. Strong as they might seem, the sadness takes them. Sucks them down into the earth like…” He shook his head. “Like it sought to make ‘em part off it.”

“Oh. Are there… Is there something out there?” Remus wondered if they knew about the Ariels. They couldn’t possibly, could they? Not and still stay here.

“Just the ocean,” Cordin said. “And the storms. As always. It gets to folks, after a time.”

“Does rain a fair bit here, doesn’t it?” Remus said mildly, causing a round of laughter.

The blonde, who revealed her name to be Wilara, looked over him and started up the questions where Ralder had left off. How had he come to the island? Did he come with a crew? Did he have any family with him here?

Remus settled on restating his story about washing up on store. As to the rest of it…

“I’m not quite alone. My son is back at the campsite with, ah, my partner.”

“You ought to take up a house in town,” Ralder said. “The weather has been loverly the past few days-“

Severus would have laughed at that.

“-but once the storms start up again, you’ll wish for a sturdy bit of wood between you and the wild ones up there.”

“I’ll have a talk with them about it. Nian said there was a house up on the hill open. I think my partner might feel a bit safer away from the shore, though,” Remus said.

“Oh, no,” Wilara said. “You’re _much_ safer in town than out in the waste. You really ought to urge her to come out and meet us. It’s not so bad, once you get used to it. We all work together here. It’s safest that way, and we all get what we need.”

“Maybe I can do some persuading.” Remus smiled.

The topic shifted, and Remus settled into listening to their stories. Now that the focus had shifted from him, people weaved in and out of conversations, telling stories about fish that had been caught and sharing gossip from around town.

Not too long later, the door opened, followed by thudding boots, to reveal Gaya. She was filthy and shook her head as though dizzy, but no one approached her. She ignored the people and went straight to sit by Nian. Nian’s father offered her a small box, which Remus realized held his rolls.

He was pleased to see Gaya wipe her hands on her trousers and take a roll. Nian leaned into her side, and Gaya patted her shoulder as she tore into the roll with her teeth.

So much sadness here.

Remus was just about to leave, when another elderly man caught his shoulder. “You look familiar, son. Did you used to come with the sailors?”

“Sailors?” Remus thought for a moment. Before they had made the island unplottable, sometimes ships had come to trade with the villages here. “No, I was simply traveling with my family.”

“Ahhh…” The man smiled crookedly, bobbing his head. His teeth were like a yellow picket fence, and his hair thick and wild. He pushed his glasses up on his nose. “You were with your family then, too, weren’t you? No one ever really leaves this place, do they?”

A hollow chuckle came from the man.

“I-I suppose they don’t.” Remus’ stomach tightened. He may have just blown their cover. He ought to have listened to Severus. He would need to get back quickly.

“You do look a mite heartier than you did as a boy. Do you remember me? I was little Siana’s gramps.”

“Oh.” Remus smiled vaguely. Then, suddenly, it sunk in. “Siana! That’s was… Oh. I was trying to remember earlier, what her name was, and I couldn’t place it at all… And you’re Mr. Prospers!”

“Yes, yes. Siana liked you a lot. Thought you were such an odd duck, and worried over you, but you made her laugh.”

“Well, I _was_ quite an odd duck, I’m afraid.” Remus folded his arms and leaned back against the wall. “How is the rest of your family?”

“My daughter is still around. She remarried after her husband disappeared.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s not a proper year, if there aren’t a few Weeps to go around.” Mr. Prospers clicked his tongue. “And yours? How’s that mum of yours?”

Remus thinned his lips.

“As I thought. Why would you end up here, if you had family elsewhere?”

“It was a few years ago.”

“It’s not so long for you, though. Or have there been others?” The haggard man’s brow climbed high. “Your father? Indeed… but someone else?”

“There’s been a war in England. I know you’re separated from it, but…” Remus swallowed. “We lost a lot of good people at once.”

“Then, it’s best you came to this Weep, eh? You seem long overdue.” Mr. Prospers patted Remus hard on the back and guided him over to an open seat. “Let’s get some good drink in you. It’s about time to honor our dead and sing for our living.”

Remus looked toward the door. He really ought to be getting back to Severus.

“What name are you giving this time, boy? I’ll go by it.” Mr. Prospers spoke quietly sat next to him. “I know your family isn’t the sort to arrive here by boat, but the whole town doesn’t need to know it.”

“Is that so.”

“Your kind doesn’t show up here anymore. Not since your father took you out of here. They’ve given up on us, much like the rest of the world. And yet we go on and on.” Mr. Prospers laughed again.

“The eternal mystery of surviving in spite of it all,” Remus said dryly.

Prospers motioned toward Wilara, and she brought over a few glasses of a dark, strong-smelling liquid.

“To surviving in spite of it all!” Prospers yelled, holding up his glass.

The whole house full of people cheered.

***

Severus wasn’t at all interested in socializing with the locals. In fact, he felt relieved once the prospect that he might have to attend had passed.

Regardless, after Remus had been gone for over an hour, he began to feel the silence around them. It wasn’t even that Severus was worried— that irritating emotion was saved for the full moon—but that Remus had a presence which was palpably missing when he wasn’t there.

Severus got Harry ready for bed and then sat with him, rubbing his back as he set out the scrying stone for Harry to see.

“There he is. Ugh.” Severus scowled at the sight of all the people crowded into a small shack. There was music, and clearly some kind of ale was flowing. But Remus was smiling a bit as he spoke to a bedraggled old man.

Though he left the stone on, Severus looked away to stare at the side of the tent. He and Remus had much more than he’d ever imagined in common, but fundamentally, their natures were different. For Severus, this arrangement of theirs was all the socialization he needed. He would have preferred Lily be alive and with them, of course, but he could get along fine with just Harry and Remus.

Remus wouldn’t be content to be alone for an extended amount of time. It was clear from how his cheeks glowed, talking to near strangers. He _liked_ people. He drew energy from getting to be with them, to help them. He might attribute it to a wolfish nature, but Severus didn’t think it could be separated from what was truly Remus himself. It was the curse that had kept Remus so isolated, when he wanted to be anything but.

What they had here could never be enough. And even if it were, Severus doubted that he had the capacity to provide the kind of company and stimulation that Remus sought in the long term. No matter what Remus thought now, he was looking at their relationship through the lens of gratitude and grief.

Severus seemed an adequate companion only because Remus had lost everyone else.

Noticing that Harry had dozed off, his little fingers pressed to the stone, Severus gave him a gentle kiss and left the bed. He paced the length of the tent, arms crossed, considering their position.

Severus knew he was probably selfish enough to keep this going, just so that he could continue to have Harry and Remus both by his side. While they remained fugitives, Remus didn’t have many other options. He might even, in time, settle for Severus’ attentions.

It wasn’t likely that Remus could ever feel something for him, though, was it?

“Such odd things come to your mind,” Severus muttered to himself.

He selected a book and went over to the table to read. It would be a while before Remus could (or wanted to) extract himself from that bizarre death ritual where he seemed to have made a friend as old as Dumbledore himself.

Severus opened the book and smoothed his fingers over the chapter title, “A Wizard Alone.” The margins of each chapter were now littered with annotations and drafts of potential spells and potions considering the symptoms that he’d been reading about. “It’s just as you said yourself. You’re trapped.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Strictly speaking, Dumbledore isn't considered a Pureblood, but I imagined that a teenage Slytherin of that time would presume that any authority figure given a good amount of respect, who wasn't referred to as otherwise, came from a Pureblood family.


	13. The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine

The brief early spring had ended almost as quickly as it had begun. Once the rains had returned, they didn’t let up for three more weeks. The full moon came and went with Remus bound tightly by ropes and spells in a nearby cave, and the howling wind and Severus’ silencing wards covered the rest of it.

Severus couldn’t help but note that Remus was slower to bounce back after this moon, although being outside (or having more humans to visit that month) seemed to keep the wolf from tearing him up too much. Instead, it dug into the ground around itself and burned Remus’ flesh against the wards. Still, he was easier to clean up by far.

Unfortunately, Severus was also starting to feel sluggish, possibly owing to the weather. He’d never been one to spend time in the sun, if he could help it. The skies over Cokeworth had been as perpetually grey as the river, so whether by nurture or nature, he’d spent his life with a rather pasty complexion. Before coming to Hogwarts, there had been children at the local school who threw things at him and called him a vampire. But, of course, only Severus had gotten in trouble when he’d taken their words literally and bitten one of them.

Severus had said as much to Remus when he asked Severus about his pallor. Sinking into a large, stuffed chair that they had rummaged and revived with Harry on his chest, Remus gave Severus an odd look as he told his story.

“No matter how many children you’ve bitten, you’re still paler than usual. As one of the three people living in this tent, I can confidently say I’m intimately familiar with what your face normally looks like.” Remus touched his cheek to Harry’s head. The two of them now had a ritual the day after that involved Harry snuggling as close as he possibly could with his Mooney.

“If that’s true, I’m terribly sorry for how you’ve suffered,” Severus drawled. He cleared his throat and then rolled up the sleeves to his jumper and went to make some tea.

“Ouch. That one smarted.” Remus clicked his tongue. “Do be kind to yourself.”

Severus made a noise. He didn’t feel like arguing today. His had a headache like lightning had struck his brain.

“Sit down,” Severus snapped when he heard Remus’ footsteps.

Then, suddenly, he felt his knees falter and a strong arm encircling his chest.

“Easy, Sev.”

Severus looked back at Remus with a scowl. “What are you doing?”

“Keeping your head from hitting the ground.” Remus kept his arm around Severus as he guided him back toward the bed. Harry was blinking sleepily from the chair, watching them.

“Honestly. _You’re_ the one who need to re-“

Severus coughed. He shook his head and tried to clear his throat, but coughed again.

“I’m not exactly nursing spelled stitches today. Sit.” Remus ordered. 

Severus indulged him for the moment and let Remus lower him to the bed. Then, Remus pressed the back of his hand to Severus’ forehead and hummed.

“This is extremely unnecessary,” Severus argued.

“Be that as it may, it seems like today should be a day of rest for all of us.” Remus sat on the bed next to Severus while Harry reached his toes toward the ground. “Did you get soaked trying to get me in out of the rain?”

Severus rolled his eyes and rubbed his temple. “It was fine.”

“Did you carry me, holding your wand as an umbrella, or did you levitate me, and have Harry wear that umbrella hat we found?”

Severus huffed. “The tea is going to boil over.”

“Although Pepper-up is one potion I can actually make, I’m fairly certain we don’t have any bicorn horn on hand. I’ll have to hit the shops in Edgewise. We’ve some Polyjuice left, haven’t we?”

When Remus began to rise, Severus caught his hand. “I don’t want you going out yet, Remus. I’m quite serious. It’s not safe when you’re this weak.”

Remus looked down at him and knit his brows together. “If you say so.” He sat again. “What _can_ I do?”

“I don’t _know_.” Severus closed his eyes, then waved his hand impatiently at the whistling kettle. “Just brew me some chamomile, would you?”

“I believe I can do that without too much strain.”

Harry landed on the ground and stood still for several seconds before running for Severus. “Seb Seb Seb Seb!”

“Oh, no…” Severus leaned over and held out a hand. “Remus!”

“Yes? I’m simply brewing tea over here.”

Severus sighed and took Harry’s hand to placate him. Harry wanted up in Severus’ lap, but if he really were getting sick, it would be a terrible idea to let Harry be too close.

“I don’t want him getting ill. Please take him?”

Remus came back and plucked up Harry. “No problem.”

Severus fell back again the stiff fabric of the tent wall and let out an irritated sigh. His head seemed to throb powerfully along with his heartbeat.

“How did this happen?” Severus grumbled. “I only went out to the town with you the _once_ -“ Severus glowered at Remus “-at _your_ insistence. And I didn’t even get near any of those salt-soaked, inbred mouthbreathers.”

“I think the chill and the lack of light are working against you here.” Remus came back with a steaming mug. “Here.”

“Why aren’t _you_ lying here covered in sweat and your head splitting?” Severus held the tea up to his face and let the steam soak into his skin.

“I don’t tend to get colds.” Remus settled Harry on his other side.

Severus grunted. “Yes. Because _that_ is fair.”

“I have some nasty stories about werewolf puberty, if that will make you feel better,” Remus offered.

“Maybe later.” Severus crooked his mouth to the side. “How nasty?”

“I mean, if Harry could understand them, I wouldn’t be sharing.” Remus reached over and rubbed Severus’ shoulders. Then he yawned.

“Get back to your nap,” Severus said, staring at his tea, “And I’ll have one myself.”

“Sounds reasonable.” Remus lingered for a moment longer. “I’m worried about the effect of all this rain on Harry. People get sick when deprived of light for too long, you know? Do you think that might-“

“I caught something from one of those filthy villagers. Don’t look too deeply into it.”

Severus sipped his tea and felt the hot liquid sinking down his scratchy throat. This was just the start of a cold. Hopefully, it would disappear on its own.

Although he hadn’t told Remus so, the last time Severus had ventured out into the Wizarding World, he’d spotted Lucius Malfoy and a few other Death Eaters prowling around in Edgewise. Diagon Alley was crawling with Ministry men. This would be a bad time to need supplies.

Remus put the blanket up on the bed. It had been kicked off sometime early this morning when Severus had been trying to heal Remus’ burns. Then, he held Harry aloft and mimicked blowing a kiss for Harry.

“Say, sleep well, Sev.” Remus blew a kiss at Severus.

“Sheep well, Seb,” Harry echoed, before pressing his hand to his mouth hard and blowing on his palm with all the force his little lungs had.

Severus cracked a smile, and his cheeks reddened slightly as well. It might not be _so_ bad to be laid up.

***

When Harry coughed, Remus felt his heart clench in his chest. He dropped down to Harry and pressed his hand to Harry’s forehead. Harry bit his lip and giggled.

From behind him came a much louder (and rougher and more congested) cough. Harry opened his mouth wide.

“Ah ah!” Harry “coughed,” and then laughed again.

“Is he all right? I knew I’d get him sick,” Severus croaked grumpily.

“He’s fine.” Remus picked Harry up and hitched him onto his hip to carry around. “He’s just mimicking you.”

“He’s…? What?”

Remus shook his head. “I mean, that’s how babies learn, isn’t it? Either that, or he figured out that a cough is the best way to get my attention this week.”

Severus made a noise and flopped over onto his other side, facing the tent. “Then give it to _him_.”

“I think I ought to go into town.” Remus ignored the next noise from Severus and continued. “I can trade a few things for some fish to boil in for a stock broth. We can’t exactly get chicken soup here, and you need something in you besides tea.”

“Alternatively, you could just leave me _alone_!”

Remus rolled his eyes and stroked Harry’s cheek. He forgot about play coughing and reached for Remus’ face. His little fingers touched the scar on Remus’ nose, which Remus wrinkled, but he let Harry explore as much as he wanted. Remus leaned in closer and wiggled his fingers at Harry’s side. Harry let out an anticipatory squeal, and Remus snuck his hand under Harry’s shirt and tickled him.

“Mooney, Mooney!”

“Do you like that? Hm? How about this?” Remus lifted Harry up and blew on his belly.

The peals of Harry’s laughter filled the tent.

Remus gave him another blow before lifting him up in the air. This was Harry’s favorite game, by far. He loved being up high, being “flown” around over Remus’ head, even being swooped up and down in sudden rises and drops. Harry had zero fear of heights and would probably fly around for an hour or more if Remus could keep it up for that long.

When Remus let Harry down, of course, Harry put his arms up again and gave a little hop.

“Give us a moment, love,” Remus said with a chuckle.

“Up!” Harry demanded.

“I bet he’d love a ride on a broom,” Severus croaked.

Remus looked to see that Severus had turned around again to watch them. In spite of looking miserable, Severus was almost smiling.

“Hagrid said Harry didn’t even mind the ride on Sirius’ motorbike.” Remus shrugged. “I think Hagrid still has it, though. And we couldn’t really ride in this kind of weather.”

“Un.” Severus made a motion that might’ve been a nod before bowing over to cough.

Harry mimicked his cough.

“Yes, Sev doesn’t feel very good,” Remus agreed.

Harry wagged his finger at Severus. “Nap!”

“I’m trying, believe me,” Severus managed, between coughs.

Remus scowled and guided Harry over to the pile of laundry that had been neglected as he’d recovered from the moon and Severus had lain there pitifully, trying to pretend he wasn’t as ill as he was. Harry stared at the pile and started to dig through. When he discarded something, Remus picked it up and set it up to be washed.

Severus’ cough was worsening. And though he kept brushing off Remus’ concerns, especially the notion that something as minor as a cold or a flu could be worth venturing out for, Remus knew well enough that Muggles often died of a bad flu. There had even been a particularly bad outbreak over in America several years ago. If indeed that was what Severus had and not something inherently more serious. Remus had seen some nasty things in the places his family had visited. Pneumonia. Hemorrhagic fevers. Bone-dissolving curses.

Severus tolerated tea, even the mix that he usually gave to Remus, and that seemed to make him feel a bit better. But his fever was constantly high, and Remus was at the edge of his tolerance for not being able to help. When Severus slept, Remus was going to go get a few medicinal herbs and put an end to it.

Beyond the fact that he simply couldn’t raise Harry on his own, he wasn’t willing to put Severus at risk for the sake of the man’s pride.

Remus pinned another shirt up and whisked out some blood, then looked back at Severus.

He would be healthy soon. Nothing to worry about.

***

Severus woke, curling his lip in disgust at the feeling of cold sweat clinging to his body. He must smell like something drug up from the drippy, forbidden corridor in the Dungeon. The stench had been so vile that Slughorn hadn’t even _needed_ to ask the Slytherins not to go down there. The spirit of that decay seem to emanate from the back of his throat.

His skin crawled, and he rolled over and looked up irritably. Remus would be hovering around the bed any moment now. Maybe he should just pretend to still be asleep.

It was eerily quiet. No sweet, babyish giggles. No quiet but serious muttering, or slightly off-tune humming. Nothing but the ever present sound of the rain against the canvas ceiling… Severus pushed himself onto an elbow and scanned the tent. He was alone.

He licked his cracked lips and struggled to sit up. This may have been the first time he had been truly alone in some time. Thanks to their close quarters, he, Harry, and Remus were always near one another, almost always unable to afford even a moment of privacy. And if Severus or Remus went out, Harry was left with the other.

Foggily, Severus came to the realization that, obviously, since he’d been sleeping so heavily, Remus wouldn’t have left Harry behind. He made it to his feet wobbling like a drunken colt and slowly shuffled toward the kettle. He made it as far as the chair and fell back into it.

“Remus, you idiot.” Severus pressed his fingers into his temples. “What are you going to do if you run into Death Eaters with Harry strapped to your chest? Give them self-righteous, motherly stares? Make them tea? Bloody hell. What if you run into _Dumbledore_? He’s going to have your lycanthropic hide!”

Severus rubbed his forehead. What would _he_ do if Remus ran into Death Eaters or Dumbledore? What would he do if Remus _didn’t come back_? Remus would never be so cowardly to slink off and never return, but he would _probably_ be stupid enough to sacrifice himself trying to protect Harry from whatever threat he might encounter.

Smoothing his palm over his tightening chest, Severus realized he was having a hard time breathing. And not because of the stupid flu. He pushed against the chair and fumbled around for the scrying stone.

“Remus,” he ordered.

The stone came to life. Remus sat, cross-legged, in a small, dilapidated room. Harry was curled up in his lap and beside him sat Severus’ rucksack. Alive, definitely, but it didn’t look like things had gone as smoothly as Remus had hoped.

Severus’ chest constricted again painfully. Was it not enough that Lily was dead and in the ground? Did Remus have to be taken from him, too, just when Severus was realizing what the infuriating man meant to him?

He crumbled to the floor. Remus had been right, it seemed, in that Severus should have attempted to eat a little more. His limbs felt about as firm as boiled porridge. Not that he could’ve done anything had he been in perfect health. He had no idea where Remus was.

In the stone’s surface, Remus jumped as he sensed danger. He scrambled backward with Harry, and the door to the room blew open in a spray of splinters. Remus brandished his wand, but before he could do anything, Lucius appeared, flanked by Avery and Bellatrix, and disarmed him. She moved to pluck Harry from Remus’ arms, and Remus turned from her, holding Harry tighter than ever.

Harry wailed silently as Lucius flicked his wand, and Remus slumped over around him. Severus couldn’t _breathe_ …

He opened his eyes. He was in bed, soaked in sweat and heart racing. Had he been _dreaming_? He looked around, again to see that he was alone.

Shaking, Severus once again rose.

“Remus!” he croaked urgently. “Harry!”

Again, nothing but the sounds of the rain.

This time, as he went to search for the scrying stone, he found it missing, as was the Scope.

_Are you **sure** Remus wouldn’t leave you? _ a sly voice in his head crooned. _What have you been to him, beside a particularly noxious babysitter? An unwanted challenge to his rigid Gryffindor morals? A man without the failings of whom both Remus and Harry might still have a family?_

“I…”

_If he isn’t dead already. And Harry in the hands of Death Eaters._

Severus covered his eyes.  What was _happening_ to him? Was this the fever? When had he been one for these kinds of fatalistic dramatics?

“Remain calm. He will be back. With Harry. Lupin’s the one who weeps and sighs melodramatically over the thought of being left. That is not me.” Severus forced air into his lungs. “I prefer to be alone. I practically shoved them out the tent flap!”

_Fitting that you end up helpless and alone. Isn’t it just? Isn’t it right? After what you did. After abetting their activities and helping them invent the worst curses of the century. After leaking the prophesy to Voldemort._

“What? Stop!”

_You murdered your best friend. For what? Power?_

Now his head was throbbing so forcefully that it felt like he might be under attack by a series of waves knocking from side to side. He held his hands to the sides of his head, as though to still the movement buffeting him about.

_How can Harry **ever** love you, after what you did to his parents?_

“The sun ain’t gonna shine anymore!” a familiar voice sang.

Severus looked up in disbelief.

“The moon ain’t gonna rise in the sky! Tears are always clouding your eyes!”

His hands fell into his lap, and his eyes bulged.

“When you’re without love! Baaaaaby…”

His head whipped around, trying to locate the direction of the singing.

“Lily?” he croaked.

Was it possible? It couldn’t be. But that was _her voice_. He knew it intimately. He could never forget.

With an effort, Severus gripped the side of the chair and wrenched himself upward. His steps were still unsteady, but he was determined. It wasn’t possible, but it was _her_. He hurried outside, hoping desperately that the singing wouldn’t stop. Not yet.

The rain decided at that moment to come down in ugly sheets. Severus trudge forward in the rain anyway. The singing seemed to get louder and louder. He was more certain with every step that the voice was Lily’s, and somehow, somehow, she was here, singing this utterly appropriate song. It had occurred to him, as one of her favorites. Wouldn’t it occur to her, also?

“Emptiness is the place you’re in,” Lily sang persistently. “Nothing to lose, but no more to win.”

Maybe she hadn’t been killed, after all. Maybe she had only been injured, and let on that she was dead, so that she would be safe until she healed properly. And it made more sense to put Harry in Petunia’s care if the move were only temporary.

“Lily! Are you there?” Severus cried. He could barely catch his breath now. His lungs burned from the exertion, and his shoulders felt as though he had suddenly been weighted down by eighty pounds or more.

He stumbled, narrowing his eyes to see through the torrent of rain.

“Sev,” Lily said gently. “A little further, won’t you?”

“Are you here?” Severus glanced behind him. It had sounded for a moment as though she were right behind him.

“I’m close, Sev! Come meet me!”

“Where?”

“Just a little further! I promise!”

Severus looked back again. That time it had sounded like she were speaking just over his shoulder.

“Please, Sev! I’ve been so alone since that night. It’s like the whole world has ended. It’s like everyone has gone away. I miss everyone so much, and Harry…”

Severus pushed forward and broke into a run. He would find her. He would return Harry to her, and maybe, _maybe_ , she could forgive him. Her temper had always been quick, but she’d always been the better person. And between the three of them, who could touch Harry?

All at once something caught his foot. He jerked forward and fell hard onto the wet ground. It seemed to open for him, as though muddy hands were grasping his sides and pulling him in. The world tilted, spun. Lights flickered and went black. He was at Spinner’s End with a broad hand coming down on him. Then at Hogwarts, surrounded by laughing Gryffindors. Then, a slavering werewolf was barreling toward him.

The memories flashed one after the other, so quickly that he couldn’t make sense of the attack on his senses. The only image he could make out clearly hovered above him, with monstrous wings flapping, and piercing eyes glaring at him from inside a bird’s skull.

***

Remus knew almost as soon as he’d apparated back on Tempest something was amiss. There was a strange scent around the front of their dwelling, and the door flapped carelessly. He held Harry close and hurried inside.

He’d known before entering that Severus wouldn’t be there, but he’d hoped that his senses had led him astray. He set both Harry and his bag down on the bed and tried to have a better look around. It would be no good for Severus to be out in this rain, being so ill already. Why would he have left at all? Even if he’d woken to find Remus missing, he would at most have been irritated with Remus.

But Remus spotted Severus’ wand laying across a book. He hadn’t even taken _his wand_.

Alarm constricted Remus’ chest, and he pulled the scrying stone out of his pocket. He’d taken it with him so that he could check in on Severus, and had done so, but the last time he’d looked, the man had been fast asleep. Now, he brought the stone to life and it only showed a stretch of muddy ground and the wind blowing a few sparse trees on a hillside.

“Where are you, Sev?” Remus muttered. He went to sit by Harry, who was bouncing up and down, excited from his time out to a brighter, cheerier climate. They’d stayed far from the Wizarding World markets, but the change seemed to have done the boy good.

Both of them jumped as the stone revealed a pale hand springing suddenly out of the muddy ground. It struggled, grasped at the air, gripped the ground and tried to push down against it for leverage. This caused a pale arm to appear, briefly, before more mud slammed down, obscuring the hand’s efforts.

“Underground? He’s _underground_?” Remus sputtered.

Harry lifted his arms. “Up!”

“No, not now Harry.” Remus set the scrying stone down and tried to think.

“No!” Harry shouted. “No no no!”

Remus closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had to be careful and he had to be quick. He didn’t know how long Severus had been under there, and he didn’t know where he was. They definitely didn’t have much time.

Remus scooped Harry into his arms and disparated.

Luckily, Mr. Prospers lived alone. The man took a few startled steps back at the pop of Remus and Harry’s sudden appearance.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Prospers, but it’s an emergency,” Remus said before the man managed to recover.

“I’ll bet!” Mr. Prospers laughed. “Or you might’ve walked.”

Remus couldn’t smile. He could barely stand still. “Do you know where this is? Severus has gone missing, and he’s trapped-“

“Out in the waste, eh? I told you that you boys ought to move closer into town.”

“What is it? What’s out there?” Remus let Harry down as the boy started to squirm.

“No one’s quite sure, but the beasts out there are kin to those who follow some of our folks around on their backs.” Mr. Prospers raised a brow at Remus’ look of surprise. “We’re not all backwards yokels, you know. Some of us do see what’s what. Some don’t want to. But live here long enough, and you’ll be the sustenance for one of those winged monstrosities, at least for a time. Hard not to see them after living through something like that.”

“And the ones out in the waste are worse?” Remus almost didn’t want to wait for the answer. He wanted to bolt out the door and hit the ground with claws and teeth bared.

“I wouldn’t say worse, necessarily, but they’re permanent. You live through the winged ones. When you go out to the waste—We’ve never been sure if they just feed on you until there’s nothing left, or if they make you one of them once they’ve sucked you dry. You just don’t come back.”

“I have to-“ Remus started to prepare himself to disparate, but then looked to Harry. He couldn’t take Harry into danger like this!

“You can leave the boy with me.” Mr. Prospers seemed to have easily divined the problem. “I’m not so bad with young ones.”

Remus fixed a look on Mr. Prospers, and the man stepped back again, involuntarily.

“You have some… big eyes on you,” the old man muttered.

“Forgive me. I can’t really control that. Just…” Remus drew in a breath. He must look wild and frightening right now, with his hair wild and his pupils blown. “Harry is the son of two close friends who died less than a year ago. I cannot lose him. Or Severus.”

Mr. Prospers reached out to Harry. “I wouldn’t dream of taking family from someone. Lost too much of it myself.”

Remus wasn’t sure whether he should believe the man. He took another slow, deep breath, and everything around him seemed to slow down. Motes of dust drifted unhurriedly through the air. The sound of the dock creaked in a long whine. Mr. Prospers had to be trustworthy, if Remus were to leave Harry with him, even for a few moments.

He leaned forward and sniffed. Mr. Prospers raised a brow.

He smelled afraid. Likely from the Remus’ eyes and sudden intensity. He smelled sick, like a flower gently withering to the end. But he didn’t smell… the way Voldemort had smelled. Or the way Severus did when he lied. Or that way Peter had, when he was anxious and starting to look at Remus (or Sirius) like he truly believed he might rip out his throat. But Peter had always been nervous and careful.

Mr. Prospers was an honest man. A dying, honest man.

“I can’t thank you enough. I’ll be back soon,” Remus promised.

He gave Harry a kiss on the forehead and then disparated.

***

Remus started from their tent and worked his way out, crouching low to the ground as he tried to pick up Severus’ scent. It wasn’t hard, now that he was doing it deliberately. So much of himself had been shut off in his effort to masquerade as human, but right now his self-image was unimportant.

Remus didn’t know how long Severus would even be able to survive under the ground. He could already be dead. The thought made Remus’ legs feel tingly and numb, but he hurried forward regardless. Half-crouching, then running, then down to the ground again.

Within a few moments, he could see a barren plain of mud and sparse, hardy bushes. An Ariel hovered above, spotting him with its empty eyes.

“Where is he?” Remus demanded, brandishing his wand. When the creature didn’t answer. “You may be accustomed to taking whomever you like, but he is protected. Do you hear me? Do you understand this? I’ve left you be until now, but you know that I am a predator as well, and you have taken what is _mine_!”

The Ariel flapped its wings hard, sending a gust of wind at Remus, but he deflected it with his wand and held his ground. Just then a cry behind him caught his attention. Another Ariel, coming in from behind. Why were there so many? Why would they have him under the ground?

Remus sent the Ariel flying backward and made his way across the muddy stretch. The ground sucked at his shoes as though the very earth was trying to stop him, but he would not be deterred. Severus was here, and Remus would save him. He wasn’t going to lose anyone else.

“Severus!” Remus swung his wand around himself, causing a ripple along the mud.

A hand reached out of the ground. But it did _not_ belong to Severus.

The creature emerged from the ground with a rumbling snarl. It had a broad face, with a broad mouth and bright white teeth glaring. From its sides sprung not two but four arms, but it stood on two legs for only a moment before dropping to the ground and barreling toward Remus.

The sight of this thing—he knew the creature to be called a Caliban, but they were supposed to be extinct—was such a shock that it caught Remus off guard. It very narrowly missed slamming straight into him. Above them, more Ariels had gathered, and they were singing, softly and sadly. Their voices discordant, almost like a warning or a chant: “Not alone, not alone.”

Was that for Remus’ ears? Or the creature he was fighting?

Then, all at once, Remus was on the ground. Something had grabbed his leg from the mud, and another Caliban emerged, smiling just as fiercely as the first. It was on top of him before he knew it, with one enormous, grimy fist pinning his right wrist to the ground. Remus struggled to free himself, but he heard a crack and his wand fell from his hand.

This couldn’t happen. Harry couldn’t lose both of them. Not again. Remus bared his teeth at the creature on top of him and shoved his hand into its oozing chest.

It continued smiling at Remus for a moment, and then its alluvium grin faltered and began to crack. Remus shoved the creature off of him and scrambled backward as the fire he’d ignited inside of it began to dry and ruin its earthy body.

The first creature hesitated, but then barreled at him again. Remus held his hands up and flung as much loose earth toward it as he could muster. It would do no good fighting this thing with its own element, but it would buy him time.

“Came to us,” the Caliban said. Its voice was gravel rubbing against itself. Not all Unseelie understood human languages very well. It was surprising this one had made time for it, but it had to have been around for a very long time.

“I’m sure you made his options quite clear and didn’t lure him here,” Remus retorted. His eyes had caught a sliver of navy blue jumper, and he lunged for it.

“Ours now,” it insisted.

It moved in front of Remus before he could get his hands on Severus. He stood there a moment, his teeth clenched and his wrist and chest aching.

“I will turn each and every one of you to dust,” Remus vowed. “You need to let this one go.”

“Ours,” it argued.

Remus ignited a fire in his hand. “ _Dust_ ,” Remus repeated.

The Caliban looked over to the remains of its comrade and let out a low rumbling howl. Then, it looked up to Remus and lunged.

Everything happened quickly, then. They rolled around the mud, struggling to get the upper hand. Without his wand, Remus only had a few spells at his disposal, but he knew the ones he had well. He deployed fire at the head and neck of the beast to get it to loosen its grip, and he threw deflective shields between them. In retaliation, it clamped one hand over his mouth and nose.

Remus felt a tremulous growl rising up from his chest. It was clearly rational. It was angered by the loss of its friend and thus could understand loss. Every moment Remus wasted on this stupid, stubborn creature was another moment Severus was deprived of oxygen.

His next moves were swift and deliberate. While the Caliban focused on suffocating him, Remus grabbed its free arm at the shoulder and pulled with all of his strength. It began to come loose, and the creature drew back.

But Remus did not let go. He ignited a fire along the creature’s arm, shoved his other hand in its gaping maw, and ignited a fire there. It began to scream and flail as its body began to dry and crack. With a roar, Remus wrenched the left arm from its body. Then he grabbed the arm, jumped backward, and hit the creature over the head with it.

By the time he was done, there were two mounds of oozing rubble. Remus shook his head and tried to gain his bearings before looking for his wand. The muddy ground made it hard to discern…

There was no time. The wand would be faster, but Severus couldn’t wait for him to find it. Remus dropped to the ground and began digging. He winced, having forgotten that his wrist was likely broken, but didn’t stop until he could see the navy sweater again. The mud just kept trying to suck him down.

“Come on, Severus, please,” Remus begged.

Finally, he could see Severus’ face emerging. He was filthy, and unconscious, and pale, and vaguely blue.

“The sun ain’t gonna shine…” sang an Ariel from above.

Remus glared up at it. They circled around, but did not come down. Despite abetting the Calibans, they seemed uninterested in risking themselves.

Remus looked back down at Severus and pried his mouth open. Remus’ heart was in his throat as he tried to unobstruct Severus’ airway. If the mud went too deep, Remus would have to spare the time to find his wand- There! Remus pulled Severus up away from the seeping grave the Calibans had put him in and leaned over Severus’ body.

His heartbeat was slow. His breathing was nonexistent. Remus placed his shaking right hand over Severus’ chest, braced himself, and then put his left hand over it and pressed down in hard pumps. Pain shot through his wrist and arm with every pump. Then, he pinched Severus’ nose and breathed into his mouths. It had been a long time since he’d learned how to do this. And Severus had been under for so long…

Pump, pump, pump. _Breathe_. Pump, pump, pump. _Breathe_.

_Too long, too long,_ Remus kept thinking as he worked over Severus’ body. Suddenly, he sat straight up.

“I’m an idiot!” Remus held out his left hand. “Accio, _wand_ , for goodness sakes!”

He grabbed the wand when it came and turned to Severus, “Anapneo!”

Remus held his hand in front of Severus’ mouth again but only waited a second before leaning in and breathing in once more. After a second pump, he heard Severus coughing weakly.

Relief flooded over Remus, and he bowed over Severus, drawing mud-encrusted hair out of his face. Remus was still shaking from the panic, and he wouldn’t be calm until Severus woke, but Severus was alive. He was breathing!

Remus looked up as the rain began to grow heavier and pressed his lips into a line.

“We’re getting out of this hell.” Remus curled an arm around Severus and apparated back to the tent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a nerd.
> 
> Also, this part is a bit long, but I didn't want this section to end on a huge cliffhanger. Thank you for your patience.


	14. That Which Slowly Mends

Severus stubbornly buried his face into his pillow. He had never been a morning person, and this morning he was especially reluctant to open his eyes and face the day. His head throbbed like a giant’s hammer was pounding away inside, and his eyes felt glued shut. Even worse, his chest was sore and heavy. It was a little difficult to breathe.

 

In spite of himself, he was being dragged out of slumber. The air was chilly, and even with what felt like several pounds of blankets on him, he shivered. He moved to pull the blankets over his face, but he couldn’t bear to keep his face covered. So he jerked them back and turned into his pillow again.

 

A sudden thud followed by a soft, “For goodness sake,” caused Severus to smile just a bit. It occurred to him that he didn’t hear the rain, and the air didn’t feel heavy and damp. Instead, crisp air entered his lungs. Instead, it was very quiet, no familiar pattering of rain on the tent, no thunder rumbling. A few birds chattered outside, but quietly, as though they were far, far above. He opened his eyes.

 

They were in a cabin. The walls were pure, sturdy wood and not far from the foot of his bed was a fireplace crackling away. He sat up, then leaned back on his elbows as the pain in his chest hit him again. For a moment, he focused on breathing deeply and licked his lips. There was the acrid taste of some kind of potion there.

 

What had happened? Where were they?

 

“Remus?” The word barely came out. It wasn’t even a croak. Severus swallowed, and as he was trying again, Remus turned the corner with Harry on his hip.

 

“You’re awake!” Remus sounded so incredibly relieved that it caused Severus some alarm.

 

He furrowed his brow, trying to remember what had happened last on the island. He’d had a bad cold, which he didn’t quite feel now, aside from the chest pain, and then… What? Nothing. And then he was _here_. Wherever Remus had taken them to. He didn’t remember the two of them talking about anyplace like this.

 

Remus knelt by the bed and let Harry climb in. The boy put his arms around Severus with all the might in his little body.

 

“Glad to be off that bloody island,” Severus whispered.

 

“Definitely.” Remus raked his eye over Severus critically, then reached over with his left hand and touched Severus’ chin as he looked into his eyes. “You’re better. I can smell it. I bought a few potions to give you while you slept, but I don’t understand them well enough to really ensure they would do anything.”

 

“You bought them?”

 

“Well, had I made them, you’d be poisoned for sure.”

 

“Where? Where did you buy them?” Severus demanded. He coughed, feeling his throat and chest burning.

 

“Take it easy.” Remus dropped his hand to Severus’ chest, frowning deeply. “You’ve been out for a few days. It was serious, being deprived of oxygen for so long. I had to make sure you’d be alright, and even then, you were asleep for so long…”

 

He shook his head. “And here I was fretting over a _cold_. It was just too dangerous for you there, Sev. We couldn’t stay.”

 

Severus raised a brow. Harry had wormed his way into his lap, so Severus leaned against the wall and put his arm around Harry.

 

“Seb awake!”

 

“I am, indeed.” Severus looked at him and gave the boy a smile. “Have you helped Mooney while I was sleeping? Have you been a good boy?”

 

“He was very worried about you. Slept beside you often.” Remus sat on the side of the bed, but seemed to change his mind and rose quickly. “I’m going to get you something to eat.”

 

“I’m not really hungry.”

 

“Then, tea, and if you can manage a few bites of porridge, we’ll call it a win.”

 

Remus disappeared into the other room, leaving Severus with no answers. He looked to Harry again and gave the boy a light squeeze.

 

“It’s quite alright. I’m too mean to kill, you know.”

 

***

 

Remus’ porridge was characteristically sweet, but he’d restrained himself on the cinnamon. It was replaced with a bit of nutmeg and ginger. Once Severus smelled it, his appetite returned, along with a general sense of unease. Something was off in this house. Wherever they were, however they’d gotten to be there, things were not right.

 

Harry hadn’t changed. He acted the same as he always did. The boy was honest to a fault, and in a way, Severus hoped that bluntness of character never left him. But eventually, it occurred to him that the clinging and the wide-eyed stares… these behaviors belonged to when Remus came back after the moon. When _Remus_ had been missing, causing Harry to worry so.

 

Now, they were about Severus. Harry was as upset as he’d ever been.

 

Remus, likewise, worried. He concealed it better, perhaps, than a toddler, but by now Severus could read the man like a book. His brow remained furrowed, his smiles restrained. Severus could almost swear that his fever was returning when Remus opened Severus’ shirt to rub balm on his chest in firm but careful circles. It was a closeness that Severus both longed for and wanted to push away with all of his strength. But he couldn’t, of course, if he wanted to get better.

 

The tension made him even less pleasant to be around, he was sure.

 

As Severus grew more confident in his voice, and managed to drink some warm tea with honey, he pressed Remus for more details about where he had gone for the potions, and what kind, and what was going on in the Wizarding World.

 

“I think Edgewise is a lost cause for supplies,” Remus said, sitting by the side of the bed with his legs crossed under him. He was wearing a particularly ugly jumper, which was too big, but it looked warm, at least. “I spotted several Deatheaters generally loitering there. I can’t say for sure what they think they’ll find, but-“

 

“You’d probably refer to them as ‘alleged,’ since they haven’t made their way to Azkaban.”

 

“Like hell I will. You take the mark, you are what you are.” Remus lifted his tea with his left hand, but paused before drinking. “At least _you’re_ honest about it.”

 

“I haven’t had much opportunity to practice this honorability you seem to think I have.” Severus swallowed tentatively, petting Harry’s hair with one hand and holding his tea in the other. “Had things gone to plan, however, I’d be hiding away at the school and thick as thieves with the Deatheaters whenever possible. Deep cover and all that.”

 

Remus looked back at Severus curiously. “Does that bother you? I mean, would it have been hard for you to associate with them?”

 

“There were my friends once,” Severus began hesitantly. He wasn’t quite sure how to answer. “Well, some of them, even if they looked down on me.”

 

“I see.”

 

“You seem to be probing me for something, but I can’t say what.”

 

“You don’t remember much of what happened at the island, so it would be difficult to interrogate you properly in any case.” Remus returned to his tea. “So I won’t try to do so. It seems a rude thing to do to someone who very nearly died.”

 

Severus frowned and set his tea aside. “Get up here.”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“Am I the patient, or not? Don’t just sit on the floor.”

 

Remus let his head fall back but otherwise didn’t move. “I’m letting Harry have you for now.”

 

“Why don’t you tell me what happened? Why were you having me taking potions they’d give to someone with a head injury?”

 

“Not really a head injury.” Remus seemed to think for a moment. “Really, it was oxygen deprivation.”

 

Severus considered that for a moment. “I had a cold. That doesn’t tend to result in oxygen deprivation.”

 

“No. But then you went wandering out in the pouring rain, alone, where you couldn’t sense Unseelie coming after you, and they tried to bury you alive.” Remus blinked a few times, keeping his face a mask of passivity.

 

Buried _alive_? Was that why his chest hurt so much? Why his head hurt? Severus tried hard to dig through his memories for his supposed internment, but came up with nothing.

 

“I don’t recall it at all,” Severus said.

 

“That’s probably best.” Remus rose and went to the window.

 

Severus hadn’t been up yet, so he could only see the sky. It was, gratefully, the greyish blue of a day merely cloudy.

 

“Where are we now? I’d like to figure out what adjustments we’ll need to make here.”

 

Remus rubbed his temple. “There’s not much. We’re in the Appalachian Mountains. At worst, there are some woodelves… Or brassed off ghosts, but you find a lower concentration of those over here in the States, though their dead have just as much reason to haunt around.”

 

“Appa- Applay- Where the hell is that?”

 

“Appalachian Mountains. And specifically, we’re in the state of Tennessee. In the eastern tip, near Virginia.”

 

Severus pushed the blanket back. He was wearing a heavy pair of flannel pajamas and fluffy socks, but couldn’t focus on how ridiculous they looked just this moment.

 

“Are you telling me that we’ve come to the _States_? Where they hunt your kind and keep the _bloody_ _pelts_?”

 

“Not if they don’t know what I am.”

 

“Americans are _insane_. They _claim_ they don’t buy into the blood purity ideology and turn around and ban marriages between wizards and Muggles. They’re the rankest bigots in the whole damn world, and they keep more weapons lying around than any other country we could hide in!” Severus’ voice cracked as his volume increased, but he didn’t care.

 

“We won’t be here for long.” Remus’ brow furrowed deeper, and he rubbed his temple. “We just need a safe place for you while you heal.”

 

“A place that isn’t safe for you at all!”

 

“It’s actually a very large country. There are plenty of places we could hide without talking to another person for a year or more, if we so desired.”

 

“That sounds fine to _me_ , but-“

 

As Harry started to fuss, Severus lowered his voice and pulled Harry closer to him once more. “There has to be an out of the way place to hide where _I_ won’t be attacked by magical creatures and _you_ won’t be hunted for sport.”

 

“You’d think, wouldn’t you?” Remus sounded a bit defeated. He sounded sad.

 

“I apologize,” Severus said. “Whatever happened on Tempest was likely my fault. It would’ve been a good hiding place for quite a while, if we’d made it through the summer.”

 

“It wasn’t your fault. It was mine. I’d gone to get ingredients to cure your cold. That was when they struck.” Remus shrugged and drew nearer. “It never occurred to me how vulnerable you’d be to them. I’d even consider how we would’ve been easy prey for the Ariels when we’d first started out, but I’d thought we were both past the danger. It was a miscalculation, and I won’t let it happen again.”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“When I came to get you,” Remus took a shaky breath and closed his eyes. “I heard them singing. That song you use to put Harry to sleep? The one Lily liked?”

 

_The sun ain’t gonna shine anymore…_

Severus flinched as the image of an enormous, muddy hand came rushing at his face.

 

“They sensed your grief,” Remus said. “They were going to feed you to their friends.”

 

Severus closed his eyes as he heard Lily’s voice pleading for him to find her. He drew in a deep breath and tried to steady himself.

 

“My God, you were _blue_ …” Remus muttered.

 

Severus covered his eyes with one hand. “What a right prat I am.”

 

“What? Not at all. Why would you say that?”

 

“I let those flying leeches get to me. I let them trick me. I ought to ‘ve known better.”

 

“That’s not how it works, Sev. They operate on the level of emotion. You can’t just force yourself to stop grieving. You can grow numb to it, but it isn’t the same as choosing to act despite your fear.”

 

“True enough. At least with a Demeanor, I’d get chocolate afterward,” Severus grumbled.

 

“I could make some hot chocolate.”

 

“Right then. Don’t forget the cinnamon.”

 

Remus turned and a flicker of a smile teased at his lips. It wasn’t a real smile, nor a happy one, but… it was something.

 

* * *

 

A few days passed, and Severus felt his strength returning, bit by bit. Remus remained distant, but a stern caretaker. Severus did his best to ignore both traits and enjoy the clear weather. As soon as he was able to totter out of bed, Severus took Harry with him, put a thick jumper on them both, and settled on the porch to enjoy the clear skies.

 

From their cabin, Severus could see over the mountains. They were perched on a high hill with a long, winding path that crept down the mountain, and behind them, they were surrounded by a thick wood that climbed into more mountains. Though he couldn’t discern them entirely through the blanket of fog spreading over the mountains, they were quite lovely. He’d never been somewhere that looked quite like this.

 

Remus wasn’t wrong, either. There were no other cabins that Severus could spot. At least, not close. These cabins, sometimes only notable for the smoke curling out of the mountains to join the fog on the mountains, were as isolated as their own. It would take some concerted effort for Muggles to come find them, and given the state of American politics regarding magical creatures (as Americans technically classified lycanthropes, even if they were human most of the time), it seemed unlikely that any of their pursuers would look for them here.

 

Severus wouldn’t lie to himself, though. He was as anxious for Remus here as he knew Remus was for Severus in those out of the way locations unfit for human habitation. Together, they were capable of keeping Harry safe… Where they failed seemed to be with each other.

 

Harry crouched by the edge of the porch. Severus craned his head to the side and pursed his lips.

 

“Stay close, Harry.”

 

“Woof!” Harry said.

 

For half a second, Severus frowned… then, remembering that “woof” to Harry meant “WOLF,” he leapt up and plucked Harry from the edge of the porch. But after scanning the steep hill below them and the woods beyond, and there was no wolf in sight.

 

There was, however, a cat. An enormous, wide-eyed, thick-coated creature that stared up at them with an intensity that Severus really had only ever seen from a feline when it happened to be his professor. The thing looked to be nearly 80 centimeters long, maybe longer. Was this an Animagus? It wasn’t possible that Americans just had giant cats in this country, was it?

 

Severus held Harry close and rubbed the boy’s back. He continued to reach for the fluffy animal with all the interest of a child unconcerned with his own safety, if only he could pet the thing.

 

“Brraw?” the cat meowed loudly.

 

Severus tilted his head to the side, startled by the high and soft sound. From the size of the creature, he’d been expecting a roar. “Hello. Are you someone? Can you turn back into a person?”

 

“Brrrraaaaaw?”

 

Two large, fuzzy paws came on the porch, and the cat looked around curiously. It occurred to Severus that it was likely that someone had lived here in the recent past. Otherwise, this cabin wouldn’t be so well-kept. Perhaps, this this cat belonged to the owner of this cabin. Meaning… Where was the owner?

 

The cat hopped onto the porch with a resounding _whump!_

 

Now that it was right next to them, it didn’t seem so big. Nor so magical. It was still a ridiculously large cat.

 

“Go away,” Severus instructed.

 

The cat sat down and just stared up at them.

 

“All right then. Do what you like.” Severus turned to the door, and the cat rose to follow him. “No.”

 

“Bye, woof!” Harry said happily.

 

“Brrr!”

 

Severus shut the door on the cat. To his surprise, suddenly, its ears went back, and it hissed.

 

“That happens,” Remus said from behind them. “Cats have a hard time getting used to me.”

 

“And dogs are perfectly happy?” Severus as the cat fled.

 

“They respect an apex predator.” Remus stood at the door.

 

Severus rolled his eyes and chose to let that answer pass. “Is its owner going to come back?”

 

“No.” Remus shut the door. “He came to England during the war, and he died. Sev, I don’t know that you should be exploring the grounds by yourself.”

 

“I was just out on the porch. I thought there was nothing dangerous around here.”

 

“Nothing magical. I’m sure the cat is fine. Though, we _are_ in the middle of a forest.” Remus’ shoulders remained rigid, and he locked the door behind him. “I’ve set up wards around the cabin already, regardless. I can check them again later this afternoon.”

 

Severus set a squirming Harry down and glared at Remus. He was tired of Remus treating him like a child. “I’m perfectly capable of doing that.”

 

“Honestly, Severus. You’ve been putting me back together fairly regularly for months.” Remus turned from the window and fixed his gaze on him. “Can’t you manage to let me take care of you for just a bit?”

 

Severus felt his face starting to burn. He stalked over to the trunk and began looking through it. He hoped Remus had managed to pack up properly for the move, however he’d gotten them here.

 

“I’m not trying to make you angry. I reckon I just thought we had a more equal partnership than this.”

 

Severus pulled out his books and returned to the edge of the bed.

 

“There is a desk in the other room,” Remus offered. “If that helps. I can clear away the parchment. I was trying to get the note-passing papers completed again.”

 

Severus moved his fingers over the book in his lap. “That would do. I’m not much accustomed to being inactive.”

 

“I wish I could say that would be changing in the near future.” Remus shrugged. “There’s not much to do out here. We could plant a garden. Though, given our average stay at any of our ‘safe houses’ so far, it’s not likely we’d see anything bloom.”

 

Severus clicked his tongue. “Well, I wish I could say we’d thought this little caper through. Don’t think that Dumbledore will ever stop looking for Harry. Nor will the Deatheaters.”

 

“No, I doubt either will.” Remus rolled his shoulders, seeming uncomfortable, and leaned against the wall. “Even worse, from our position, it’s difficult to know exactly what is going on in Wizarding circles… but…”

 

“But…?”

 

“I did collect a few copies of _The Daily Prophet_ during my last trip to Edgewise. As far as I can tell, they’re still running with the story of your kidnapping—“

 

Severus snorted.

 

“And they reported the boat house, and the shack near where Duilius died. I’m confident they don’t know exactly what has happened. I reckon Dumbledore would be the only one to really put it all together, but the Deatheaters either think you’ve run off with Harry, or they think someone has actually taken you and are using the Ministry as an arm to find you.”

 

“They may not know what they think, at this point. Lucius was always keen about keeping his options open.” Severus furrowed his brow. “He’d be perfectly capable of leading the others in a manhunt, not knowing whether the end would be a warm reception or a Killing Curse.”

 

“I have to say, that doesn’t really make me feel better, Sev.”

 

“If they’ve reported Duilius dead, and he’s got additional burns on him, I dare say you ought to set some of your worries on what your old friend Greyback thinks about all this.”

 

Remus pursed his lips. “I doubt he could want me more dead than he wanted me before.”

 

“Cheery sentiment.”

 

“I aim to please.” Remus offered Severus a vague smile and headed over to lift Harry up.

 

Severus stared at Remus for a moment, watching how he took Harry with the one arm, holding him on his left hip and letting his other arm dangle. Remus left the room with Harry, and Severus sat back, wondering at how Remus seemed to be favoring his right side.

 

 

* * *

 

Though he wasn’t eager to stay here for any longer than was required, Severus had to admit that he was beginning to enjoy the weather. It only remained cold for another day or so before the sun began regularly coming out and shining through the remaining chill in the air. Spring was coming, finally.

 

Remus, at last, shed his ugly jumper, revealing a lighter but still long-sleeved shirt, which was rolled up on the right side. Severus stared at him with layers of irritation that threatened to break through his tolerance thus far and result in some kind of explosion.

 

“What the hell happened to your arm?” Severus demanded.

 

Remus lifted it up and looked at the split on his forearm, his expression mild. “Well, I had to fight off the Calibans to get to you. They’re quite strong.”

 

“Good God,” Severus said. “You might’ve mentioned that you were injured!”

 

“I can’t think of any reason I would. Though, I’m glad you’re feeling well enough to be cranky about it.”

 

“Cranky?” Severus crossed the room, putting his book down halfway, just in case he was tempted to swat Remus with it. “Let’s have a look.”

 

Severus took Remus’ arm before the man could object and looked at the makeshift splint. It was wrapped around in cloth from elbow to around his thumb, but underneath were two stiff, thin bits of wood. He must have put it together himself. Likely very awkwardly, with only his left hand to use.

 

“Where’s the break?” Severus asked.

 

Remus pointed mutely as he allowed Severus to examine the construction of his splint, then his fingers and elbow. When he moved to unfasten the binding, Remus pulled away.

 

“I’m sure it makes you feel better to turn attention back on me, but it really isn’t necessary.”

 

“Why on Earth didn’t you just mend it?” Severus asked.

 

“I’m not an idiot. You don’t use spells like that unless you know what you’re doing.” Remus scoffed. “I’m really best with countercurses, magical remedies, and healing spells that involve triage. I’ve no training in broken bones.”

 

“And you for some reason elected not to ask me?”

 

“You’ll pardon this lapse, I trust, since you were _unconscious_.”

 

Severus gently let go of Remus’ arm. “I’m not unconscious _now_.”

 

“And you can mend it?”

 

“Not really. But it does look more swollen than it should. I can wrap it up a bit better. Go sit at the table,” Severus ordered.

 

A wry smile tugged at Remus’ lips, but for the moment, he did as he was told. Severus sat beside him, and since the slightest indelicate handling of his injury would likely cause Remus a good deal of pain, Severus used his wand to unwrap the arm. It irritated Severus a bit that Remus had spent so much time focusing on him, after what seemed to be quite the battle, instead of looking after himself.

 

“I know the spell, but I haven’t the practice to really do it properly,” Severus murmured. “You’re right, unfortunately. Best not to risk it.”

 

Remus nodded and looked back to the little area they’d set up for Harry in the kitchen.

 

“He’s fine. I’m glad he didn’t see any of this mess in action.” Severus looked over Remus’ bare arm. It was clear where the break had occurred. The skin was so bruised that it was nearly black. A sensation of disquiet fell over them, as Severus traced the garish outline of a monstrous hand. Severus had only seen that hand briefly, but he knew it. Those hands had pulled him into the Earth, and it looked like they had tried to crush Remus into nothing.

 

“I am, too. It’s been hard on him, watching you like that.”

 

“He’s getting used to it, I’m sure.” Severus muttered. He breathed in deeply, determined not to let his hands shake. Though he knew, for a fact, that “getting used to” instability as a child wasn’t really something that would benefit Harry in the long run.

 

Pressing his lips into a thin line, and reminding himself that the Calibans had only _tried_ to kill Remus, Severus began chanting over Remus’ arm. The room grew so quiet that he nearly lost his concentration, but slowly, the color returned to normal. When Severus looked up, he could see Harry watching him with wide eyes.

 

“You have a fan,” Remus said.

 

“I’ve not done anything terribly useful. But this should hurt less.” Severus looked down again and began to carefully re-split the arm.

 

“I won’t say no to a little less pain in my life.”

 

Severus took a deep breath. “Thank you. For saving my life.”

 

“Sev-“

 

“I am quite serious. You don’t need to believe it’s necessary, or give me some speech about how we ought to both be able to take care of one another in times like these.” Severus rested his hand on Remus’ arm. “I admit, I’m not the best patient, whether I have a cold or I’m in a coma.”

 

“You’re not wrong,” Remus said flatly. “I’m… very grateful that you’re still here with us.”

 

As distant as Remus sounded, Severus did believe he meant it. The man would always hate to see the people around him suffer. He was that type. Some half-formed emotion flickered through Remus’ eyes, lined and tired as they were, and he touched Severus’ hand.

 

Severus’ skin began to betray him again, warming at the touch until Severus imagined Remus literally lighting him on fire. It wasn’t right or fair to have this feeling when Remus only had the feelings natural to a person as kind as he was. The man’s propensity for caretaking extended far enough that Remus would ignore his own suffering while focusing on others. Severus couldn’t understand that. He’d never had it before, and he didn’t know how to explain to Remus, who had once had a mother who grieved just as she tended her little boy, or friends who, despite their enormous failings, went to great effort to help him.

 

It made him feel a bit like he was taking advantage of Remus’ kindness. It didn’t matter that, logically, Severus knew that he’d looked after Remus far more often at this point. Part of him whispered, repeatedly, that he did not deserve this kind of devotion. He didn’t deserve to be saved from certain doom, for starters. Nor did he deserve Remus’ tender doctoring, nor Harry’s sweet, worried affection.

 

Severus pulled away and gave Remus a severe look. “Next time, just _tell me_ if you’re hurt. I’m not a bloody mind reader.”

 

As he returned to his books and notes, Severus realized that his snappish comment just then was really a lie. He regretted saying it like that, in any case, but when he turned back, Remus had already gone to Harry’s side, either having absorbed Severus’ unearned scorn or ignored it entirely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N. I know you can’t Apparate across the Atlantic Ocean. Not even Dumbledore can. I’ll address how Remus did it later.


	15. What Is Your Problem

“Hullo there.” Remus stepped slowly onto the porch. The resulting hiss was expected, and he waited for the big Maine coon to get curious again. Her ears were back and her long tail puffed. Remus crouched down and held out his hand.

 

The past few days with Severus had seemed like going back in time. Remus had felt a strange friendship blooming between the two of them before Severus had fallen ill. They had grown to be an odd kind of allies since the end of the war (in more than the literal sense), and it had progressed from merely tolerating one another to, at least on Remus’ part, being an odd kind of friends.

 

Now, it felt like those first days together. Severus was snappish; Remus felt guarded and unsure.

 

The only thing that seemed to have remained was muscle memory. They went about their days in a routine that was comfortable and familiar, but Severus didn’t feel like joking or talking. They cared for and played with Harry separately. Remus knew that Severus wasn’t really angry about his arm, though he may have been angry about their location.

 

It had taken some doing to get to America, when it came down to it. He hadn’t detailed the trip because Severus had been so short about the choice to begin with, but it had involved a Portkey that only worked 23 minutes after midnight exactly, which had taken him beneath the bridge of a small town with under 10 thousand people. From there, grateful the river hadn’t been too high, he’d Apparated a little further into town so he could get his bearings before heading into the mountains.

 

The town hadn’t changed even slightly since Remus had been there as a boy, as they were now, more or less illegally. Going down into the town himself for supplies shouldn’t be a problem… apart from the issue of currency. He was going to have to think of something.

 

The cat, who he and Severus had begun referring to as Wolfe, thanks to Harry, ventured a paw closer. Then, she stopped full out and whipped her head around suspiciously.

 

“God, you remind me someone,” Remus muttered. He rose to his feet and rolled his shoulders back.

 

Maybe it was better this way. Remus hadn’t had time to reflect on how he’d felt when he’d realized Severus was in danger. It had been more than would be expected of co-conspirators. It had felt like something dangerously on the far end of friendship and inching into something more.

 

Maybe this thing they had wouldn’t bear the weight of more. Remembering the rush of protectiveness, how it felt to potentially _lose_ Severus, Remus found himself hoping… but no. It was too much to want that kind of closeness with Severus. They were so different, and so much came between them. It would have to be enough that Severus was willing to help him parent and protect Harry. Remus felt lucky to even have this much, after having lost so much.

 

Of course, the bulk of their problems currently rested on how much Severus hated to be vulnerable. That was abundantly clear. The rest? Remus could only hope their routine could see them through until Severus had forgiven him for the high crime of saving his life.

 

Remus gave up on the cat and returned to the task at hand.

 

Hopping off the side of the porch, Remus gave a quick look back to the cabin before heading into the woods. He’d told Severus that he was checking the wards and keeping an eye out for potential Muggles wandering through, but to this point, he’d been vague on what that meant. Although he hadn’t intended to hide this from Severus, determining for himself what all this meant had been more confusing than he’d anticipated.

 

On Tempus, Remus had failed Severus. That was utterly clear. And while he’d always believed that embracing his nature outside of the full moon would lead—quickly, brutally, and necessarily—to devolving into the kind of monster Greyback was… Remus had to admit that using his abilities to find Severus and locate dangers to his little family hadn’t turned his mind in the least.

 

It had frightened William Prospers, definitely. Poor old man. Remus must have looked like a wild thing when he’d returned for Harry. Now, thanks to Severus, Remus knew that his eyes changed when he was sensing other inhuman creatures, and he could be more cautious about letting on what he was.

 

Truthfully, though, as Remus moved through the woods, scenting for threats, fear still tightened his chest. Perhaps part of him would always be afraid of what he could do. Perhaps part of him would always believe that embracing his difference, rather than rejecting it, would result in losing himself to the wolf.

 

But… the wolf _was_ Remus. Remus was the wolf. It went mad once a month and tried to tear him to pieces (and anything else it could get its claws on), but it was still his body, and his mind, however shattered in those hours of forced transformation.

 

The sun filtered through the trees, and Remus lifted his head to greet the light. This was all uncharted territory. And with it came echoes of Fenrir’s speeches about how the bite was a gift for the chosen few and how the pack needed to rise up against the wizards and take their rightful place as the superior race. It all sounded the same to Remus. Pureblood mania, lycanthropy recruitment. It all sounded the same to Remus, bringing to mind images of blood, pain, and loss.

 

Remus couldn’t say what it would mean to use his extended senses while keeping his current ideologies. He only knew that refusal to do so had nearly gotten Severus killed. Pretending that he had no additional resources was a lie. He would have to risk getting to know himself a bit better.

 

Each day, he took a trek through the woods. Breathing deep. Adjusting his eyes deliberately rather than just as a reactionary response. There was magic around them, yes. Deep and old. But nothing as twisted as the Unseelie haunting Tempus. Nor were there any other wizards nearby.

 

Sev had been right that Remus would be able to know, damn him. But it would be good to have a secondary alarm system, should the Surveillo-Scope ever fail.

 

A good deal of time had passed by the time Remus had made his way back to the cabin. He could hear Severus inside, talking to Harry in a gentle manner that suited his deep purr of a voice, but that he did not often use. The cat was lurking near the doorway, curious about the two humans, and the other creature, in her domain.

 

Lonely, probably. Cats were odd creatures that way. They liked company, but didn’t always feel comfortable reaching out for it.

 

After rolling up his sleeves, Remus entered the cabin, resulting in a hiss from Wolfe and a sharp, unsettled expression from Severus. He hoped someday soon, his arrival wouldn’t cause quite so much upset.

 

* * *

 

The cabin was small.

 

Of course, most places they had been forced to stay had been small, and not always in comfortable ways. The tent had been small as had the boathouse, but Severus had never felt as cramped there. The current situation felt more like their time in that cramped shack that Remus had termed a safe house, where he’d gone out occasionally just to get away from Severus.

 

He couldn’t really blame the man. Severus had never been unaware of his unpleasant nature. He knew when he was being snappish. He knew when he was taking his frustrations out on the people around him. The problem was, as it has always been, _stopping_.

 

And he really ought to. Any day now. Remus had been very patient, and wildly overprotective, which suggested that he’d been quite afraid for Severus. More and more, though, he disappeared behind his vague smiles and seemed to slip further and further out of Severus’ reach. Severus could grab hold of him, tell him that he didn’t blame him for anything that had happened, and that he both wanted and needed him around.

 

None of which was his forte.

 

Instead, he cast a foul look in Remus’ direction when the man entered, then lowered his head to where he’d been playing with Harry, and ignored Remus for the rest of the afternoon.

 

Remus went to the office to work on those parchment papers, which he kept swearing were nearly done. He was mostly talking to himself at this point, but Severus hoped that it was true. He hated to think that they might not be able to communicate in the event they were separated again. Not that the Calibans had offered him pen and paper or anything, but it was best to be prepared.

 

“When you’re done fiddling with those papers, do you intend to find us another place to stay?” Severus asked sharply that evening as Remus was preparing dinner.

 

“I thought we might have to discuss that. It’ll take some doing for us to get back to England,” Remus said. He stirred the pot, which contained a mishmash of their remaining canned goods. “The Portkey is down in the town and can only be used at certain times… Though, I imagine it will be easier to reach now.”

 

Now that Remus wasn’t dragging Severus’ unconscious body along with him.

 

Severus set Harry by the table and opened the cupboard, where they had found some slightly dusty but very useable plates early on. “Then, we ought to decide where we’ll be headed next. I see no reason to remain here much longer than we have to.”

 

“It’s risky to go back. I won’t be able to know if someone is on the other side of the Portkey waiting.”

 

“No, but if we wait, we may find ourselves trapped in this ridiculous excuse for a country.” Severus struggled to keep his voice civil.

 

He knew he’d failed as Remus flattened his lips and smiled at him mildly.

 

“Apart from the werewolf hunters, that might not be so bad. Most of our enemies are back in England and might not even think to look for us here. There are even fewer magical creatures lurking about.”

 

“That’s not going to benefit us much when someone decides to field dress you in our backyard.”

 

Maddeningly, Remus’ brows shot up and he nearly laughed.

 

“It isn’t funny!” Severus snapped.

 

Remus’ eyes went to Harry, and Severus took a deep breath.

 

“I was merely surprised. I don’t actually find the idea of being hunted funny… It’s not like people are all that accommodating to werewolves back home, either.”

 

“They aren’t murderous,” Severus insisted.

 

Remus rolled his eyes. “Not _legally_ , maybe. I’m a problem to you no matter what.”

 

Severus took a spoon and dished out a bowl of lentils and vegetables for Harry. He turned away from Remus and sat down with the boy at the table. It was silent again. Achingly so.

 

“What is your problem?” Severus demanded when he couldn’t take it anymore.

 

Remus turned and blinked. “Now? I’m fine. We’re a few weeks from the moon yet.”

 

“Then your behavior needs a better excuse.”

 

“My-? I don’t understand.”

 

Severus sighed heavily in irritation. “How is it _I’m_ the one urging for open communication? The decision to come here at all seems entirely arse about face. Why should we trade one set of enemies for an entirely unknown one?”

 

Remus crossed his arms over his stomach. He’d dropped the flat expressionless mask, thankfully, and sighed as well.

 

“How long are we going to be able to evade them? Being somewhere Unplottable seemed like our best bet. But of course, Unplottable locations are so terribly dangerous to you, Sev. And to Harry. How can I justify choosing another one?”

 

Severus spooned up some food for Harry and watched the boy’s eyes looking between the two of them. It took him a moment to catch Harry’s attention long enough to get him to eat.

 

“Yes, I was sick,” Severus admitted quietly. “Yes, I was injured. Does that mean you have to hide us away in a mountain fortress? You’re acting like I’m made of tissue paper. I’ll have you know that in a fight, I can quite well hold my own.”

 

“I know that, Severus.” Remus dropped his arms to his side and went to look out the window.

 

“Then what is going on? I find your choices to be utterly inexplicable.”

 

Remus said nothing. He starred out the window for a few more minutes, and then returned to the table with constricting pupils.

 

“Is there something out there?” Severus demanded.

 

“No, I was just… checking. Maybe I am overdoing it. Maybe I’m paranoid. It is particularly like my father, honestly, to hide my family away in the middle of the wood. But you have to understand…” Remus shook his head slightly and touched the edge of the table. “Sev, when I saw you there, in the glass, far before I had even found you… You looked _dead_. Or as good as. I didn’t think I could save you.”

 

 “I wasn’t expecting them. I’ll be more cautious next time,” Severus promised.

 

“I don’t want there to _be_ a next time,” Remus replied tersely. “Do you think I enjoy seeing you _as a corpse_? I’ve lost enough friends and family to fill a bloody _lifetime_.”

 

Severus grabbed Remus’ fingers as he started to turn away again. “Please. Let’s think about somewhere else. I understand you don’t want to always have to be afraid for me. I understand because that is how I feel _right now_.”

 

Remus looked down at their hands. Severus didn’t let go.

 

“I don’t know where else we can go.”

 

“We can work it out. Between the two of us, I doubt there are many with half our skill set.”

 

“True enough.” Remus rubbed his thumb along Severus’ fingers, and Severus felt his face flushing. “Except for Dumbledore.”

 

“You’re worried about him.”

 

“I hate that I have to. You’ve convinced me of a lot of things, but maybe the easiest sell was the reality that Albus always has a plan, and I’m not sure…” Remus swallowed and pulled up a seat between Harry and Severus. “I’m not sure that I’ve fit into it for a while.”

 

“Probably not. I don’t think one leaves valued weapons lying around.”

 

Remus bowed his head and his shoulders shook. “You’re _terrible_.”

 

“You’re quite the weapon.”

 

“I like to be thought of a _person_ , regardless.”

 

Emboldened, Severus moved his hand up to rest on Remus’ arm. “I _do_. Even at my worst, I always have.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Remus’ voice was slow, and a little raspy as it tended to be at times. Severus had to wonder where this worry had come from just now. The answer to that worry was easy, however; if only all of their conflicts could be mended so quickly.

 

* * *

 

Remus’ neat, cramped handwriting bloomed onto the blank parchment beside him, and he felt the sweet rush of success. Remus glanced to his own, tapped it clean with his wand, and started anew. Again, the letters appeared on the sheet beside him as he wrote. He’d done it.

 

A bit of spelled ink, treated parchment, and the right charms.

 

_James dropped down beside Remus, all floppy hair and sweat-soaked clothes. He shed his robe, leaving nothing but his undershirt and trousers, which had no small amount of dried mud on them. He was always more than a bit of a mess after Quidditch practice._

_“How’s it looking, Moony?”_

_The parchment papers spread expansively over the floor of Remus’ single bedroom located in an out of the way alcove at the top of Gryffindor tower. Only a few spots remained open for a fragmented pathway to Remus’ bed._

_“I think we’ve covered every inch of the grounds,” Remus said, his voice quite rough and a bit low. He sat there cross-legged, writing in neat, deliberate marks. “And I’ve figured how to repel anyone who picks it up… Well, particularly a few individuals come to mind…”_

_He looked back at James. “Though, I’ve not done the charm on the map itself yet. I think defenses would be best laid in after we created the base functioning of the magic.”_

_“Clever.” James bumped Remus’ shoulder with his own._

_“Logical. We don’t want it kicking us out before we’ve even got started.”_

_“Could it even do that?”_

_Remus rolled his shoulders, feeling pain shooting through his tremulous limbs, and rose to pick up a blank piece of parchment. He handed it to James._

_“Try seeing the message here.”_

_Lips curving into a recognizable grin, James met Remus’ eye, then set his gaze on the parchment. “Alright then. Hum. What was that charm?” He ruffled his hair with one hand, then pulled his wand from the back of his pants and tapped the parchment. “Aparecium!”_

_Instantaneously, Remus’ handwriting began scrawling across the paper:_

**_Mr. Moony would like to bid you a good evening, as well as offer you the opportunity to get stuffed._ **

 

_James howled. “So polite!” He tapped the parchment again. “Tell me your secrets!”_

**_Persistence is indeed an admirable trait; however, you have all the fortitude and spine of an incontinent flobberworm._ **

****

_James fell over onto the bed and pinched his eyes shut as he shook in laughter. Remus smiled and perched on edge of his bed._

_“See? If anyone we don’t trust finds it, they’ll assume it’s just a bit of parchment spelled to insult whomever picks it up.”_

_“You’re bloody brilliant, Moony. You know that, right?” James removed his glasses and wiped tears from his eyes._

_Remus shrugged._

_“Will the responses always sound so much like you?” James asked._

_“I suppose they will.” Remus paused. “The spell is tied to my magic. But if we laid in the repelling charm together, it should result in the parchment creating a response for each of us.”_

_James drew in a shaky breath and shook his head. “I’ve got the charm for the map figured out. I just want to tinker with it a bit.”_

_“How so?”_

_“Well, just in case someone like Dumbledore finds the map, I wouldn’t want him to see us running around as Animagi.”_

_Remus furrowed his brow. “What spell is it?”_

_“Just a Homonculous Charm.”_

_Remus nodded. “I reckon if we used that, it would also be easy enough to find out when Slytherins are off harassing Muggleborns and Halfbloods."_

  
  
_“Huh. I hadn’t thought of that.” James rolled over and looked at the map of the sprawling castle grounds. “That’d be dead useful. Could definitely keep an eye out for those berks working for Greyback, too.”_

 

_Remus said nothing. James’ expression grew more serious as he puzzled it over. The quiet was broken as the sound of two pairs of thundering feet came up the stairwell. Sirius and Peter didn’t even knock as they burst in, and a few pieces of parchment lifted into the air and took flight._

_“Careful!” James said._

_Remus shrugged. “The ones on the floor were just for practice, anyway.”_

_“This place looks like a library exploded,” Peter said, his eyes moving from the papers, to the books, to the second map on the wall with pins and notes all over it._

_“You’re so lucky you have a private room,” Sirius grumbled. “Leave one thing on the floor in our room, and Sweeney throws a fit.”_

_“It’s not that difficult to be assigned a private room,” Remus said mildly. “All you have to do is be a werewolf.”_

_Sirius came over, his slick smile wide and his long, lead body oozing with nascent masculinity. Remus felt his cheeks go flame-hot as Sirius draped an arm over his shoulder. Heart in his throat, he looked up and, before he could stop himself, found his gaze fixed on a pair of plump lips and a strong, clefted chin._

_He dropped his eyes to the floor quickly. But he didn’t move Sirius’ arm. And he didn’t quite wipe the dopey grin from his face._

_  
“I thought you were gonna wait for us at the field, Prongs!” Sirius complained. “We were standing around down there forever!”_

_James hopped up and shoved the blank parchment in Sirius’ face. “Here, see if you can get this to show its message!”_

 

The rush of success, now followed by an all too familiar ache as he remembered working on things like this with James and Peter and… even Sirius. Still, Remus was grateful for the ache, in a way. At least he had the good memories to fall back on, tainted as they were with loss… and betrayal.

 

Remus cleared the parchment once again. He’d show it to Severus later, and they could each keep one on their person in case of emergency. Just now, Severus was out with Harry. He seemed to be spending more time alone with the boy, and Remus couldn’t fault him. If the adults couldn’t get along, that was no fault of Harry’s.

 

It was good, though, that Severus had reached a level of comfort with Harry. He’d been so hesitant and unsure, at first.

 

A smile forced its way onto Remus’ lips in spite of everything. He was _proud_ of Severus. It hadn’t been natural or easy for him. Remus had never met his parents (and now, never would). They’d made themselves known through their absence during an incident in which their son had nearly been killed. And Severus had only mentioned them in passing, to reveal that they probably hadn’t cared about him all that much.

 

Remus believed it.

 

Leaning his chin on one hand and tapping his quill on the desk with the other, Remus looked around the room pensively. It was tidier than his own room had been, back in those days when he and his friends were coming up with clever ways to skirt the rules. His room had always contained extra library books, however, and by that time, marks on a map of the school regarding all the incidents against those without “pure” blood. He hadn’t even known exactly what he’d been tracking, at the time. Just that he and Lily and a few others were growing worried. They’d had no idea what was to come.

 

Remus’ eyes fell on one of the books that Severus had been carrying around since they’d stayed at Meklit’s boathouse. An old tome on blood magic, it had never piqued Remus’ interest much. He had the basic knowledge of the practice down, and he hadn’t found the principles to change much between spells. What interested Severus so much about it was a mystery.

 

Remus plucked the book from its resting place and opened to the table of contents. His brows rose as he realized that the book inside was not at all what the cover had advertised. This was something else entirely.

 

And Severus had made notes, both academic and reactionary, all over it.


End file.
